Hitman: Exile
by AFishCalledMonty
Summary: Five years have passed since the events in Satu Mare and the world has moved on leaving the ICA behind. 47 struggles with the guilt of what happened to Peregrine, unable to shake her from his mind. But when Cicada hires 47 to complete a seemingly impossible contract, he learns just how much she has truly changed his world. Sequel to Hitman: Revelation, language and violence.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hello everyone, so here it is the final story in my trilogy. If you haven't read Merces Leitfer, or Revelation yet I recommend you do to get the full experience. To all my returning readers, welcome back and hope you enjoy. This story has got a slightly different feel and is probably going to be my darkest one yet, I will try and keep it Teen rated, but if it suddenly disappears it's because I changed it to Mature.**

 **So as always, read, review and enjoy! :)**

Prologue

I tightened my grip on the fibre wire in my hands as my target struggled to break free. The sound of choking gradually faded as the oxygen supply to his brain finally cut out. I felt him relax against me and I unceremoniously dumped him on the floor. Methodically I wound my fibre wire up and placed it back in my jacket pocket.

"Excellent work 47. Don't forget the files." I responded to Diana's voice by casually picking up a manila folder on the target's desk and stowing it away in the briefcase I had brought. I extracted a thick length of rope from it before snapping it shut and deftly tied it in a noose, placing it around the deceased target's neck. The dingy PI office was small and cluttered, but there was a conveniently placed industrial steel girder across the ceiling. Part of the minimal, modern design of the building I assumed. Standing on the desk I hoisted the corpse up into the air and secured it to the girder.

"Perfectly staged as ever. I need to talk to you about something, are you free tonight?" I jumped down off of the desk and kicked the office chair onto the floor beneath the now hanging man.

"Always. The mansion?"

"No. I'll come to you. Things are…complicated here." She sounded tired. My eyes landed on a half emptied glass of whisky on the desk as I retrieved my briefcase.

"Fine. I assume you know where to go?" My brain was starting to get that uncomfortable itch that proceeded an impending period of inactivity, and the sight of the alcohol was aggravating it.

"Yes." The line went dead with her abrupt response, and I grabbed hungrily at the glass of brown liqueur. Downing it I revelled in the comforting numb feeling that spread through me. Immediately my brain cried out for more, so I swiftly locked the door of the ex-PI's office and exited through the window into the Chicago night rain.

…

Five years didn't sound like a long time, but a lot had changed and I had felt every agonising second of it. The only thing that made it bearable was the drink, and the killing of course. If I wasn't killing I was drinking, and if I wasn't drinking I was killing. I dreaded the periods where I was doing neither, because that was when she usually visited me.

The first time I had seen her it had been a month after the Asylum in Satu Mare. The ICA had been in disarray and I had been given a leave of absence. I had returned to my safe house in Sicily, I wasn't entirely sure why, it had just felt right to go back there. The numbness hadn't left me since I had watched that building go up in flames, taking Perry with it. I was struggling to sleep when she had appeared in my bedroom as clear as day.

I had seen ghosts before, my impressive kill list made it inevitable, but they were usually just memories. Indistinct figures in my mind with no emotion attached to them, nothing like the apparition I was seeing now. At first I thought she had survived and found a way back to the house I had nursed her in all that time ago, but then I remembered the impossibility of that. I had searched and searched the grounds and found no trace of anyone escaping it. She had died there, in that hell and would remain trapped in its ruins forever. The next thought I had was that I was mad, that my body was punishing me for succumbing to my feelings towards her before abandoning her to her doom. I rubbed my eyes vigorously but Peregrine refused to disappear. She looked so real I was almost tempted to reach out and touch her, then the pain had come. I had never felt anything like it, a hot knife stabbing me in my chest. It felt like someone was ripping my heart out with a blunt instrument.

That first time was when I had discovered the whisky helped. I had lasted an hour before in a tortured state I had stumbled to my kitchen and reached for the bottle. The burning sensation in my throat was quickly followed by a flood of numbness that had washed away the ripping, tearing pain inside of me. I hadn't slept at all that night, and I had emptied the bottle. I became afraid that something was broken inside of me, the next time she appeared she talked to me. It didn't help the pain.

After a about a year, I learnt to balance my alcohol consumption with my contracts. The agency had reformed into a shadow of its former self, but still alive, still present. Diana was now the Director, and she also resumed the role of my handler. The familiarity of it was welcome, but despite myself I couldn't help wishing she sounded a little less…formal, that strange lilting voice banished only to my nightmares. I was as professional as ever, never drinking before a contract, however I never let myself stop or think for too long. Attacking my targets with a heighten ferocity that Diana took as enthusiasm at resuming my normal life. It wasn't, it just drowned out the background noise. The world had changed around us, and I was finding it harder and harder to adapt.

I was in my grotty motel room now, a flashing neon sign advertising 'Girls' illuminated my room in a gaudy, pink glow periodically. I was sat in a chair staring out at the pouring rain, my jacket and tie slung on the end of the bed, a whisky glass clasped in one hand. I had seen enough pop culture to know I looked like a classic film noir character, sometimes I hated what she had made me become, but then I remembered what I was like when we had been together.

The glass was annoyingly empty; I had drained the last of my supply waiting for Diana to turn up. I was loathed to go out and get more in case she arrived when I was out and then I would have to endure the awkward pointed looks towards my collection of empty bottles. At the same time I could feel the numbness wearing off, that itchy, prickling feeling beginning to wake up in the back of my mind. I turned on the ancient TV in the room, it took a moment to warm up, the tubes protesting at their sudden activity. A game show appeared, with an irritatingly flamboyant host bouncing around a tacky set as some dead eyed pedestrians tried to win something. I kept it on, hoping to distract myself from the impending hallucination I could feel building.

"Don't tell me you're actually watching this shit." The familiar pain blossomed in my chest at the sound of her voice. It was still unbearable, but the sensation had dulled slightly as I had grown accustomed to it. I could see her sat on the end of the bed, her brown eyes fixed on the sickeningly bright colours flitting across the screen. She was exactly as I remembered her, she always was. Her long, brunette hair pulled back in a ponytail, her jeans and checked shirt the same ones she had been wearing the last time I had seen her. Her eyes flicked to me, the life and intelligence in them so real, so tangible it made the pain flare harshly.

I averted my gaze; I found ignoring her was the best option when she appeared. If I indulged in my torturous fantasy I found it harder to adjust back to the real world, I was sure if I wanted to I could quite easily believe she was really here with me and slip slowly into madness. The game show host was asking one of the one of the walking dead a question, he beamed a bleached white smile at the old woman that didn't reach his eyes.

"Okay Sharon, what is the capital of Canada?" The old woman blinked at the twinkling host, her watery eyes vacant.

"Ummmm…is it Oregon?"

"Ha! Stupid cow, that's a state. It's Ottawa." I glanced at the ghost on my bed, she was grinning broadly at me clearly pleased with her interjection. Despite my better judgement I felt my mouth slowly twitch up into a half smile. "Wow, it's been a long time since I saw you do that." She retorted, I dropped the smile and turned back to the TV, willing Diana to get here already.

"Aww, I'm sorry Sharon. The answer is Ottawa. But don't worry you don't go away empty handed, we'll give you the latest smart phone courtesy of our sponsors Cicada Co." I narrowed my eyes at the screen at the mention of Cicada's new identity. Peregrine had been right about them, they had sold us down the river as soon as we had destroyed the agency's secret project. Taking the blueprint for the microchip she had given them, and rising to power in a matter of months. If I cared more about politics I probably would have found it scary how easy it had been for them, now everything from phones, to cars, to guns had their microchip inserted in them. Their claim that it made property less attractive to steal as the owner could disable anything stolen within seconds, the truth it gave them control of pretty much every electronic device owned by the population. There was even talk of them adapting them so people could access the internet from inside their head, I dreaded to think where that would lead us.

The programme ended and a flashy advert took its place. The logo of Cicada Co appeared as a male voice narrated. "All your electronic needs taken care of with the new Cicada Co range, the latest microchip update available with all purchases." Images of smart phones and cars appeared on screen. "Remember, if it isn't chipped you could get nicked."

I clenched my teeth together and turned the TV off abruptly, even succumbing to my hallucination was better than watching that. "They've really got their claws in haven't they?" I closed my eyes, stubbornly ignoring her. "You know it wasn't your fault." Her voice was quiet and gentle, the pain in my chest responded by punching me harder. "You shouldn't feel so guilty." Her voice was get closer, I could sense she had got up and was moving towards me.

"I don't." I clenched my fists, cursing my weakness.

"Well, I'm your subconscious and I say you do." She was right behind me now. I was digging my nails into my palms, willing her to vanish but at the same time begging her to stay. God, I wished I had more whisky.

"I am not guilty Morgan." My tone was insistent but a little too aggressive to be believable. Suddenly I felt her hands on my chest as she leant down behind me. They left a burning trail where they touched my shirt, her mouth was by my ear and I could have sworn I felt her breath tickling me as she spoke softly with a voice filled with sadness.

"Then why can't you let me go?" The pain peaked inside of me, why did she feel so real? A brisk knock interrupted my nightmare and she was gone as soon as she had appeared. I opened my eyes once more, blinking as I felt a betraying wetness in them. A shaky breath left me as I steadied my nerves, forcing my weakening emotions back behind their flimsy wall. There was another more urgent knock on my motel room door, and I forced myself to move.

Diana looked as composed and elegant as ever, but to a well trained eye her weariness and age was peaking through the veneer. "47." She greeted me curtly, walking past me to stand in the middle of my dingy motel room. I saw her note the lack of lighting and several discarded liqueur bottles. I had meant to hide them, but my mind had had other ideas. Taking her cue I turned on the light, squinting ever so slightly in the sudden glare.

I was lucky alcohol didn't really affect me the same as other humans, my genetics gave me a heighten resistance to its effects. Still, I had noticed it slowed my ability to adjust and adapt just enough for it to be noticeable to people who knew me well; and by people I meant Diana. She narrowed her eyes at me now, looking me up and down.

"You've been drinking again haven't you." It wasn't a question, it was a statement of fact. I stared blankly at her for a few seconds before moving back to my chair and lowering myself into it. Diana remained standing in the centre of the room, preferring to have the high ground. She sighed infinitesimally and clasped her gloved hands together, getting down to business. "Good work tonight, do you have the files?" I gestured towards the briefcase in the corner of the room with my head, Diana's eyes flicked to it then back to me. Her face suddenly softened, a rare look of concern in her eyes. "47, are you okay?"

I looked down at my hands, the indents of my nails still evident on them. "Yes." I answered abruptly. I heard her shift uneasily at my avoidance; she obviously wasn't about to let this go.

"They've been getting worse? The visions?" I gave in to her probing; letting out an irritated sigh I levelled my gaze at her.

"Yes." She nodded, a sympathetic expression on her face. A slow anger started to build inside me; I was angry at her sympathy, I was angry at the state of our situation, but most of all I was angry with myself for being so weak. Diana continued to look at me waiting for me to elaborate, the last thing I wanted to do was talk about my guilty conscious with her. "I don't let it affect my work."

She nodded, her expression hardening once more. With her personal assessment of me complete, she resumed her formal stance. "I've been given a new contract for you 47." I frowned at her.

"And you felt the need to tell me in person?" She looked away from me, nervous tension evident in her movement.

"The client is…controversial." I raised my eyebrow quizzically at her. She gave me a sideways look, as if she was afraid to tell me who it was.

"Go on." I prompted, growing impatient with this unwanted human interaction. I tolerated Diana a lot more than other people, she was my oldest acquaintance after all, however ever since the Asylum and the events leading up to it I had found social situations even more unbearable than before. She sensed my irritation, taking a deep breath she continued her voice wavering slightly.

"The client is Cicada." Instinctively my jaw tensed and I gripped the arm of the chair a little too tightly. "I know, I reacted the same way when they contacted us."

"What can we offer them that they don't already have?" Cicada had achieved what it set out to do; it had destroyed the ICA. After the death of Mr Nu, Diana had taken over as Director with a unanimous vote from the board. She had cut out any operatives who had been involved in the scandalous cloning programme and tightened security at headquarters. But by then it was already too late, Cicada had begun making microchips and its members embedded in governments around the world had started whispering in the ears of its leaders. They made it the law for all electronic devices to carry their microchips and gradually the list of powerful clients coming to the ICA for our services petered out. Nowadays the agency only dealt with fairly low level targets, there was the occasional mafia boss or corrupt politician, but contracts like my PI tonight had become the norm.

"They've run out of options, and even after all they've put us through you're still the best out there and part of the agency. We're their last hope 47." I stared at her for a moment, unsure what to do. I had never refused a contract, and despite my hatred of Cicada I wasn't going to start now.

"What's the job?" My voice was flat and emotionless, although I was quietly seething underneath.

"They want you to take out a target that has been giving them a spot of bother. Apparently a veritable army of hit men and mercenaries have been sent to do the job, none have returned." Both my eyebrows raised this time, my interest was piqued. Diana gave me a grim smile before she continued. "The clients want you to eliminate this assassin killer and collect something they stole from them. I must warn you 47, a lot of highly skilled professionals have failed this contract already. Whomever this person is, they know what they're doing."

"ID?" Diana shook her head.

"The client has insisted on keeping the identity of the target classified until we are on location. They have however revealed that the property stolen is in fact a child." My brow furrowed at this last piece of intel.

"A changeling?" She shrugged.

"Perhaps. Regardless, the child must not be harmed under any circumstances." I thought for a moment, then nodded once. "I know this isn't ideal 47, but maybe this will be a chance to gain some valuable intel on our adversary. Besides I am sure you're itching for a challenge."

My mouth twitched slightly at her jibe, it was true I had been killing my targets in more elaborate ways to entertain myself. Maybe this killer would be a worthy opponent. Feeling a sense of calm overcome me in the knowledge I would soon be busy once more, I let my mouth stretch up into a rare half smile.

"Where is this target?"


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: So as the beginning of this story is based in Wales there are a few slang terms I have used that I will leave a guide to, along with** **pronunciations, below. This is because they will occur a lot in the coming chapters and to prevent having to translate in italics I thought I'd give you a handy guide. The slang words are Welsh terms used day to day.**

 **Slang**

 **Cariad = Sweetheart**

 **Blodwyn = Flower**

 **Bachgen = Boy**

 **Pronunciations**

 **Rhydian - Ri dee en**

 **Gelert - Geh lert**

 **Seren - Seh ren**

 **Cwmtref - Coom tref**

 **Brynddu - Brin thee**

Chapter 1

The doe raised her head, smelling the wind nervously. I forced my muscles to stay still, crouching lower in the undergrowth. The earthy smell of the forest filled my nostrils, the gentle patter of rain hitting my anorak amplified in the oppressive quiet. My calves were screaming in protest but I my stomach hurt more, and we needed this kill. I moved as carefully as I could so I had a clear shot of her head. My hands were slick with rain as I slowly drew the bowstring back, levelling my gaze down the shaft of the arrow. The doe resumed her grazing, and I took a deep breath in, steadying my hands. Releasing the bowstring the arrow rushed away from me with a muted whooshing sound.

I recognised a clean headshot from the sound it made, a thunk and a crunch as it connected with the fallow deer's skull. The animal staggered a few paces before collapsing in a heap in the undergrowth. I sprang upright, the life returning in a tingling rush to my legs and arms. No longer concerned with stealth I jogged down the small rise I had been perched on towards my kill. I gave a small smile at the size of the doe, this should keep us out of town for at least a week. The animal's large, brown eyes stared blankly up at me, kneeling down I took a firm grip of the arrow shaft lodged in her head.

"Thank you." I murmured respectfully as I yanked the arrow out of her. A small spray of blood erupted from the skull as I stowed the missile safely away in my quiver. The rain was starting to intensify and I was conscious I had been out here pretty much all day stalking the doe, so I swiftly set about preparing her to carry back. Tying the legs with strong twine, I hoisted her onto my back, the wetness of my anorak making it hard to keep her in place. Once I was certain I wasn't going to drop her I made my steady way back to Tobias.

As was often the case I had wandered further than I realised in my pursuit of my prey. It took me a good twenty minutes to retrace my steps to where I had tethered him. He was waiting patiently, his head hidden in amongst a bush he was currently eating to death. His black coat was shiny with rain and I felt a pang of guilt at leaving him exposed to the elements for so long.

"Hey there lad." I called softly as I approached him, not wanting to unnecessarily startle him. The stallion lifted his head, bits of bush sticking out of his mane. I stifled a laugh at his ridiculous appearance. "You look very fierce." I chuckled fondly as I picked some of the leaves out of his inky black hair. With a low snicker he pushed his head into my side, he could be a real gentle giant when he wanted to be but was a formidable partner when he sensed we were in danger.

"Stand still now." I chided as I moved to his rear and carefully wedged my prize behind the saddle. Lashing the doe in place I let out a small, weary sigh. Hunting always took it out of me, but it was worth it in the long run. I untied Tobias from the tree he had been fastened to for most of the day and heaved myself into the saddle. I always liked the way it felt to be so high of the ground; it made me feel powerful, safer than being on foot. Tobias pawed at the ground impatiently, sensing we were about to turn homeward. I gave him a nudge with my feet and he eagerly began walking back along the faint forest trail. The rhythmic motion of Tobias and quiet clam of the forest made me relax and my thoughts began to drift.

It still baffled me how quickly the world had changed in five years, and how quickly my life had changed along with it. I was pretty certain that my small corner of it was one of the few places in the western world that had remained unaffected. That was largely down to the fact that it was one of the few places in the western world that didn't have any Internet or phone signal what so ever, and so it had been the perfect place to hide for all this time. Sometimes I couldn't deny the irony of a once infamous and highly skilled hacker now residing in a place where coding a computer was as useful as a chocolate teapot. However, it had left me free to find new skills, ones that were much more appropriate for our way of life now.

The forest started to thin and the path continued on a sharp incline. I leant forward in the saddle, giving Tobias an easier time of lugging me and the dead weight now on his back up the hill. Even though I had seen it a hundred times before, I still couldn't help looking at the view that had now opened up before me. The intimidating beauty of the Welsh mountains was hard to understand; there was little colour to them, mainly shades of brown, dark green and grey dominated. The peaks cut a jagged line through the moody, iron-grey sky and large rain clouds rolled across the highest points down into the valley below. There was a wildness to them, an untamed aura that meant you never felt completely safe, as if at any moment nature itself would reek havoc on you.

The wind began to pick up as we neared the top of the rise. Down in the valley tiny white specs floated amongst heather and fern as a herd of sheep grazed, a river cut the valley in half, a thin silver ribbon in the murky afternoon light. I was at home here, this was where I had grown up and it was the closest thing I had to home now. The rain and wind was starting to make me uncomfortable so I urged Tobias into a brisk canter, hoping to shorten our journey time.

When I had returned here five years ago I had found it hard at first, it was a massive culture change from the metropolitan, elite lifestyle I had become used to. True, I had never really fitted in at all, but I had grown used to the busyness and the danger my previous job had thrust me into. Wales by comparison was slow and quiet, nothing note worthy tended to happen here but that had been partly why I had chosen to return. It was also painful for its memories, I had grown up here with my parents but they were long gone now.

Gradually the pain and the boredom had subsided, I had moved in with my Uncle on his farm and being put to work had helped with the bad thoughts. Seren helped too, having a person who depended on me had been a shock to the system. Honestly, I had doubted whether I had done the right thing taking her a few times, but soon loving her had come as easy as breathing and now I wouldn't be without her.

We passed over the top of the hill and my Uncle's farm came into view in the dip below us. It was the perfect place to hide; it was surrounded on all sides by mountains and thick forest. There were no other farms in a thirty-mile radius, and the nearest town was fifty miles away. It was a natural fortress protected from intruders and any outside influences. Tobias let out an excited whinny at the sight of home, I grinned at his enthusiasm feeling his gait quickening in his eagerness.

"Okay lad, take it away." I loosened my grip on the reins and with a quick glance behind me to make sure my kill was still secure, I kicked him into a heart stopping down hill gallop. The wind whistled past my head, tearing my hood down, the rain began stinging my face as we rushed headlong down the hillside. A small herd of ewes were grazing on the slope and they scattered in panic at our thundering approach, bleating loudly in terror. As we got closer I saw a tall figure exit the rickety farmhouse, it was my Uncle Rhydian likely on his way to scold me for scaring his flock.

We took the fence on the edge of the field at a flying pace, I gave a small whoop as Tobias cleared it easily and we landed in a shower of muddy water. I slowed the excited stallion to a bouncy trot as I advanced on my Uncle, he didn't look impressed. His sharp hazel eyes bored into me, they were two pinpricks in amongst his messy mop of curly grey hair and a grisly salt and pepper beard. His arms were folded across his chest, even for a lean man he still managed to exude a sense of wisdom and authority. I had always been slightly scared of him as a child.

"You bothered my ewes. If they don't lamb this year it'll be on you." Rhydian Williams was a pragmatic man of very few words, and when he did speak it was usually to tell you to do something or to scold you for doing that something wrong. He rarely gave praise, and affection was a bad word in his house, that was unless it was concerning Seren. Even for all his foibles my Uncle was a kind and big-hearted man, evident when he had taken in his orphaned niece and her mysterious child without a second thought.

"If they don't lamb after I ran my horse through them months before, you need new ewes." I quipped back, giving him a cheeky grin. He harrumphed and turned away from me, squelching back into the house.

"Make sure you gut that doe properly. Don't want rats getting into my store." With that he tramped into the house and slammed the door behind him. I rolled my eyes and dismounted Tobias, as gracefully as someone who had been hunting all day in the pouring rain could. Stretching my arms trying to loosen my shoulders, I led Tobias towards the food store round the back of the house. Depositing the dead deer in it, I turned my attention to Tobias.

"Come on then bachgen. Let's get you dry." I was on my way to his stable when Seren came flying out of the back door.

"Ma! Ma! Did you get anything?" I beamed at the small girl barrelling towards me, still trying to pull on her boots. Her light brown hair was tied back in a plait and it whipped from side to side as she finally finished dressing and closed the distance between us. Colliding with my legs as she wrapped her arms around me, I let out a winded grunt. Her strength always surprised me, mainly because it got stronger day by day. She was only six and she could already lift a hay bale above her head and wrestle a fully-grown ram to the ground. There wasn't an once of malice in her however, and she was always careful not to hug me and Uncle Rhydian too hard. She lifted her face to me now and I stared lovingly down into her strikingly blue eyes, every now and then it struck how much she looked like him. Her face getting longer every year, her cheekbones becoming more prominent as she lost her baby fat, and her skin and eyes getting paler almost taking on an ethereal glow. Each year it got a little harder to look at her and not feel my heart pang in longing.

"I did cariad. I got a deer, enough for Uncle Rudy's famous venison cawl for a week." Seren jumped up and down in glee, and I gently extracted her and held her hand as I continued walking towards Tobias' stable. I herded the child and horse inside the stall, and set about taking his saddle and bridle off. Free of his burden Tobias shook his giant body scattering water droplets everywhere. Seren squealed in delight at the deluge and broke down in a fit of giggling as I stowed his tack away, and began rubbing down the sodden stallion. She chatted to me as I tended to Tobias, patting the beast with a tiny hand absentmindedly. I smiled as I let her tales of the day wash over me, losing myself in my task.

An excited barking suddenly started up somewhere outside the stable, and Seren quickly forgot about filling me in on her day to rush outside. "Gelert!" She called as she flew past me like a whirling dervish, I sighed in exasperation the girl never stopped. The barking intensified as the friends were reunited; I glanced over the stable door to see her hugging the shaggy, grey and brown sheepdog that was her constant companion. Gelert belonged to my Uncle technically, but in reality he belonged to Seren. They had been inseparable the moment I had arrived at the farm with the tiny one year old; the old sheepdog had sniffed experimentally at her and the wide-eyed baby had looked uncertain for a brief moment before grabbing his ears and laughing ecstatically. The rest, as they said, was history.

My view of the heart-warming pair was blocked by a thin, dark figure. My Uncle leant on the stall door and stared at me pointedly, his expression communicating the nature of his visit. I finished up with Tobias, making sure his hay net was full before leaving the stall. Uncle Rhydian moved out of my way as I shut the door behind me and glanced at the dog and child in the yard.

"Seren, take Gelert inside a minute. He deserves a warm fire after being in the rain all day." The girl was giggling as the sheepdog licked feverishly at her face. I knew my Uncle disapproved of the close relationship, Gelert was a working dog not a pet he would remind me on a regular basis. But I wasn't about to deprive Seren of one of the small joys I could afford her. She nodded at me and grabbed the dog by the collar.

"Come on boy." She crowed cheerily as she guided the animal into the farmhouse, a rare luxury for the hard working mutt. Once she was out of earshot I turned my attention to my Uncle. "What's wrong?" His brow furrowed as he thought about how to break the news to me.

"I saw a drone." I had grown accustomed to his limited word usage, in some ways it reminded me of another man who didn't like to say too much, but sometimes it infuriated me.

"Where? Near the farm?" My Uncle shook his head, his curly hair starting to dip into his eyes as it soaked in the rain. I began to walk towards the food store in a pointed way, eager to get out of the weather. He followed as he continued to talk in his thick Welsh accent.

"No. Beyond the forest, but it was high enough for me to see it from the edge of the South field." My heart stuttered in fear, at least it hadn't got past my barrier, but it would have still got a good look at the obviously farmed land beyond the thick forest. Someone was looking for us that much was certain.

I entered the small wooden store, holding the door open for my Uncle, my look vacant as I thought through our options. "What time was this?" I hauled the deer carcass I had discarded earlier over to the butcher block in the corner. Uncle Rhydian handed me the skinning knife as he replied.

"Around three. I was checking on the herd when I saw it, reckon it got a good look at me before it flew away." I ran a hand over my sodden face, this was the last thing I needed. I had hoped the attacks were slowing, that people were giving up finally. Evidently I was wrong. I slid the skinning knife deftly into the doe, letting out some of my pent up frustration on the corpse. My Uncle watched silently as I quickly skinned and strung up the deer, taking a larger knife to cut a slit from stomach to neck letting the guts spill out on the floor. He flicked an unconcerned glance at the macabre mess on the store floor before returning it to me. My Uncle had never been one to feel squeamish, part and parcel of being a farmer I assumed.

He didn't say anything else, but remained stood in the store with me, the pause growing more and more pregnant between us. Finally, after enduring the awkward presence for long enough I sighed loudly and turned to him. "Is there more?"

"Seren was with me." I froze, my grip tightening on the knife in my hand.

"What? Why? She's not to go near the woods, you know that." My Uncle's expression didn't change, but I could see from his stance he was sheepish.

"She was bored and I didn't think the herd would be that far south. She didn't go in them, I made sure of it, although I could tell she was curious." My hand began to shake with fury, and I had to take deep breath to control my rage towards my Uncle.

"What if she had run away from you? You know you wouldn't have been able to catch her. Not to mention the fact that if that drone saw you, you can be damn sure it saw her too." His head bowed suddenly and I felt a pang of guilt at the way I had spoken to him. I was very aware of how much I had inconvenienced him since showing up, unannounced on his doorstep all those years ago. I had practically insisted that on top of taking us in and sharing his meagre means with us, he should cut himself off from the outside world and turn a blind eye to a lot of shady shit I had had to do. In my mind it was justified, to protect Seren, but to an outsider, even a relative, it was a lot to ask. Still I couldn't help feeling righteously angry at my Uncle's flagrant disregard to the rules I had set out to keep Seren safe.

He grunted, obviously embarrassed, turning his gaze away from me. "Thought you needed to know. She's been talking about nothing else since she saw the drone, and I thought it would be better if I told you first." I placed my head in the crook of my elbow and growled into it.

"Fine. I'll deal with this later once I'm done here. Meanwhile, we'll have to stay on alert for any alarms being tripped. I have the feeling company is on its way." My Uncle nodded once, an unspoken apology in his eyes. My shoulders sagged as the rage slowly left me and I softened my expression towards him. "Thank you for telling me Uncle Rhydian." He gave me a small smile as he exited the store, and I was left alone, just the dead deer and my thoughts.

I had been terrified with how fast the world had changed after the events in Satu Mare. One minute the world seemed like a rational, relatively sane place the next it had been taken over by businessmen and politicians clearly under the thumb of Cicada. The microchip law had come into affect just three months after the Asylum, and that was when I had fled back to Wales and my only remaining family member. It was safer, not for me but for Seren. Out in the world she could be manipulated or worse killed because of the tiny piece of plastic inserted into her brain. But that wasn't the worst of it; only six months after that horrendous place had been destroyed I had learnt that we hadn't been successful, that the research and some of the clones had survived. The changelings weren't common knowledge of course, just like the ICA hadn't been but to anyone who knew where to look they became a formidable, sickening force in the world of assassination. The only difference was that it was Cicada pulling their strings not the agency.

Child assassins became the new elite killers, the ultimate in discreet killing and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that if I left here Seren would likely end up one of them. The name changelings had been given on the criminal grape vine, it came from the project name Wechselbalg, German for changeling but it also suited them. If Seren was anything to go by their abilities were pretty much unequalled, I doubted if even 47 would be able to beat a fully matured one.

My heart twinged painfully as my thoughts drifted to my former agent. I tried my hardest to keep him from my mind; it made it easier that way, but from time to time I slipped and I found myself reliving my past life. I had done the right thing, I had followed that man blindly into a world I didn't belong in and had lost everything for my troubles. I wasn't naïve, I had known from the start my ill placed affections would never be returned, but I hadn't bet on my life being destroyed in quite the way it had. Seren had been a ray of hope in a dark time, and I had made my choice five years ago to forget about him and all he stood for. Start afresh.

I snorted humourlessly, that had really worked out well hadn't it. Here I was living a life without any modern technology, scraping a living off the land with my cantankerous Uncle, and struggling to keep my family safe from mercenaries and hit men intent on killing us. Yeah, that fresh start was really working out well for me. I pushed my reminiscing to the back of my mind and finished preparing my kill, chopping the deer's head off with a decisive swing of my knife.

…

"I saw it hovering ma. Uncle Rudy said it was a special helicopter for people to see far away. What do you think they were trying to see?" My eyebrows were pulled together in a worried frown as I stared at my dinner. Seren had been wittering on about the drone all evening, and I was struggling to find answers that would placate her curiosity. Uncle Rhydian looked at me sympathetically from the head of the table, as he slowly inserted a forkful of venison taking himself out of the conversation. I shot him a glare as I arranged one of those careful smiles parents wear when they don't want their children to know the truth.

"Maybe they were looking at Uncle Rudy's sheep cariad." It was a weak excuse, even by my standards. Seren frowned at me, her eyes distrustful. She was far too smart for her own good this one, she reminded me of myself when I was her age.

"Why would they use a special helicopter to look at sheep? There are tons of sheep here." I pinched the bridge of my nose, taking in a calming breath. It wasn't her fault, she was curious as a child should be and I couldn't just say why she shouldn't go into the forest or what the drone was really looking for. That wasn't a truth a child of her age needed to hear. She persisted though, her dinner forgotten. "I saw the forest as well ma. It is big like you said." Slowly I placed my cutlery down, this was definitely not a topic I wanted to go onto.

"Yes Seren, big and dark and dangerous. That's why I say you can't go in there." My tone held a warning note to it, but the wilful girl took no notice ploughing on in her quest for answers.

"I'm sure I wouldn't get lost. I never get lost in the woods by the stream; it's just a little bigger. Couldn't I go in there ma, I promise I'll be careful." I placed my hands on the table, a headache starting to build behind my eyes.

"No Seren. You know the rules." My voice was hard, holding no argument. But Seren was nothing if not a perfect copy of her male counterpart and she loved to rebel.

"But ma I'm strong, I-"

"Seren, I said no!" The cutlery and dinner plate jumped as I slammed my fist down on the table. It made a clanking sound, Gelert let out a startled bark by the wood-burning stove and Uncle Rhydian paused, fork frozen in front of his mouth, his eyes locked onto me. Seren stared at me stunned, her bottom lip quivering slightly, her blue eyes starting to glisten with frightened tears. My headache throbbed uncomfortably and I averted my gaze from her as I muttered in a low voice. "Go to bed."

I had lost my temper, but only to keep her safe. She didn't listen, she never did, but I needed her to. Still, I couldn't help the overwhelming feeling of guilt as the small girl slid slowly off the dining room chair and started tiptoeing silently to her room. Just as she reached the door Uncle Rhydian unfroze and stood up, placing his fork next to his unfinished dinner.

"Come on blodwyn, I'll read to you." The grateful look Seren flashed him didn't do anything to improve my guilt, but I let the old man take her tiny hand in his and lead her to her bedroom. Once I heard their footsteps disappearing upstairs I lowered my head into my hands, rubbing my sore temples. I would make it up to her, I resolved, but how I had absolutely no idea. I knew I had effectively trapped her here, but I was trapped too. The farm was large, two thousand acres of fields and woodlands surrounded by a ring of mountains and a large forest. The latter was the only thing she couldn't enter, she had free rein of the rest, a child's dream. However, little Seren had always wanted more, and that was something I couldn't afford to give her.

I heard the low rumbling of Uncle Rhydian's voice as he started to read, I strained my hearing to find out what tonight's choice was.

"To begin at the beginning. It is Spring, moonless night in the small town, starless and bible-black, the cobblestreets silent and the hunched, courters'-and-rabbits' wood limping invisible down to the sloeback, slow, black, crowblack, fishingboat-bobbing sea." I smiled a small smile, Under Milk Wood, a firm favourite of hers. She brought out the best in Uncle Rhydian, he had been lonely before we had come to live with him. He would never admit it of course but he thought of Seren as the granddaughter he never had, his wife, my Aunt, had died young before I was born. They had never had children and he had never re-married, his farm had become his life and now I was wrecking all that. The guilt returned afresh, sometimes I thought they would all be better off without me.

I listened to my Uncle read Dylan Thomas to Seren, his rhythmic voice lulling me to sleep as much as her. A calmness seeped through me and I laid my head onto my folded arms. My eyelids were just beginning to droop as a loud ringing bell cut through the quiet of the farmhouse. I immediately sat bolt upright, adrenaline pumping through me. Uncle Rhydian had paused in his reading as well, listening for the dreaded second ring. The suspense became unbearable as the silence dragged on, then it came, an abrasive, gut wrenching sound. Signalling an intruder in the forest, coming to find our home.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The rain was still heavy as I dashed out of the warm, dry interior of the house, shrugging on my coat as I went. Darkness had closed in now and the surrounding hills were only dimly visible in the west as the last remnants of the struggling sun disappeared. I rammed on my head torch as I sprinted to Tobias' stable, the stallion looking startled as I hurtled in and began fitting his saddle on.

"Sorry lad, we've got company." The horse picked up on my sense of urgency and began dancing on the spot, his giant hooves pawing at the ground. "Stand, stand." I murmured to him half-heartedly, my mind was all ready elsewhere getting ready for what was to come. Fastening the last buckle on his bridle I jogged outside with the pent-up stallion next to me. Leaving him for a moment I dashed into the food store where the butchered carcass of my early kill was still hanging. My mouth was set in a grim line as I scanned the shelf on the far wall, eventually retrieving my bow and quiver, and at the last minute strapping a large machete to my belt.

My torch beam danced around wildly as I launched myself onto Tobias' back and turned him southward, he didn't need much encouragement before he gathered his haunches under him and propelled us forward at full gallop. Glancing back I could see the thin outline of my Uncle and the small one of Seren in the upstairs window. Their silhouettes framed by the comforting, orange glow of our home.

The south alarm had been triggered; it looked like our drone friend hadn't decided to hang around once they'd seen Seren. Night wasn't ideal, and the rain even less so, but the positive was whatever made my life harder was going to give whomever had foolishly stumbled into my forest a hard time too. Tobias ate up the ground as we scaled the hill protecting the farm from the worst of the weather. The wind whipped the rain into a frenzy up here, and the beam from my head torch barely made a dent in the raging maelstrom in front of me. I'd give this bastard something, they'd certainly picked the night for it.

I pushed Tobias on until we started to head downhill again, and the forest spread out before me like an ink stain on the landscape. The first challenge would be to find the intruder, the alarm pinpointed what part of the vast forest the breach had been in but not the exact whereabouts of the cause of it. No matter, I had plenty of practice tracking things through those trees, and not just deer.

I was nearing the South field, hurriedly I turned off my head torch. It would only give my position away now, I was better off trusting Tobias' eyes. The wind died down as we descended into the valley, it was still strong enough to drown out any noise however. I sat up, slowing Tobias to a steady canter, scanning the edge of the trees for any sign of life. To be honest I would be worried if they had made it to this side of the forest by now, likelihood was they were in the middle of the dense woodland fighting their way through the undergrowth. Steering my horse to the very edge of the forest I gave a gentle tug on the reins, Tobias dropped into a walk and I slipped into the dark trees onto a faint path. Weaving between the thick trunks and keeping my head low, I strained my ears for anyone walking nearby. I wanted to find them quickly, mainly to make sure it wasn't some tourist who had got lost. It had happened before, but due to the time of day and the weather I had a pretty good idea of the sort of person I was going to find.

The first person who had come looking for us had been a shock. I had had a feeling someone would, I had been too noticeable, too infamous for the world I had left behind to just forget about me. However, nothing had prepared me for the volume of people they would send to find me. I hadn't set up the near impenetrable fortress I had now when the first assassin came for me. It had been a near call, and they had made it all the way to farmhouse, something I had never allowed since. Luckily Seren had been out with my Uncle, but it had meant I was left to fend him off alone. He hadn't been experienced, but he was bigger, stronger and better trained than me. In the end my intelligence had won and I had vowed to never be put on the back foot again.

I had reached the mid-way point in the forest, between my Uncle's farmland and the outside world. Quietly I dismounted and tied Tobias up in a small clearing where I knew he would be safe. "I'll be back soon boy. Promise." I murmured gently to the stallion. He stared at me with large brown eyes, and I patted him before turning and disappearing into the undergrowth. I went into hunting mode, focusing my hearing as my sight was going to be little use now, and being careful to tread quietly on the fallen leaves and bracken.

My body started to fill with adrenaline, it made it harder to keep my hands steady but this was no deer I was hunting. This prey would likely bite back if I messed up. I took in a few deep breaths to calm my nerves and continued on into the ink black forest. The rain and wind were hushed here, the trees forming a barrier against the storm; the sound of my feet crunching amplified in the quiet. My plan was to go the outer edge of the forest and look for any signs of a person entering; a car, tracks or any branches chopped down. The forest was huge, and I knew in this part it would take me about twenty minutes walking at a stealthy pace.

I reached the lip of a large ravine that cut through the trees, walking along the edge would give me a faster path to my destination so I set off crouching low to avoid anyone seeing me from below. I was about halfway along it and nearly at the other side when I heard them. Instantly I froze and flattened myself on the ground, peering over the edge of the sharp drop to one side. The voices floated up from the bottom of the ravine, there was more than one and clearly stealth wasn't their forte.

"How big is this place? You said the field was on the other side yeah?" The voice had a rough cockney accent and was practically shouting as it travelled up to me. Another voice replied in a quieter tone and I had to strain to hear what it said.

"Shut the fuck up Hawkins. Everyone will know where we are if you keep shouting." I snorted, too late for that buddy, I thought ruefully. Five shadows suddenly detached themselves from the dark woodland below and I watched as they made their way up the ravine towards me. They were all wearing tactical gear, their faces covered with masks and night-vision goggles. Each of them had an aggressive looking automatic rifle clutched in their hands; my eyes followed them as they reached the point directly below me in the ravine. My gaze flicked to where they were stood, a small smile pulled at my lips. _Just a few more steps guys, come on,_ I willed them. We weren't far from the edge of the forest; about half a mile in I would say. They were right where I wanted them to be, about two steps away from my domain as I called it.

They came to a stop and I cursed in frustration. The leader swung round to face the other four. "We need to keep it down, we don't know how many are in here defending this place. The field is on the other side of this forest, after that it should be plain sailing to the target." I shuffled myself further up the ravine passing the invisible line I was waiting for my prey to cross.

"What do you mean Peters? There was only an old man with that girl, and the target is meant to be just a woman." I narrowed my eyes at the cockney Hawkins dismissive tone. _Fuck you, just a woman,_ I thought angrily. The leader Peters sighed.

"Hawkins, you've heard the rumours. How many guys; experienced mercenaries, highly skilled hit men have come here and not come back out. They don't call this the hungry woods for nothing. There has to be an army hidden here, one woman and an old man couldn't have taken out all those professionals." I rolled my eyes, the consistent arrogance of these idiots was one of the reason I was still alive. I waited patiently for them to deicide to continue, I had a good idea of their route now and I wanted this to be over as quickly as possible. These guys were professionals, sure, but they weren't the best. I had a very good idea of what the best was, and I prayed I would never have to see him here.

Another voice piped up, a noticeable waver in his tone. "Come on, let's go. This place is giving me the creeps." The leader seemed to agree as I saw his masked head bob.

"Okay, on me lads. Keep your eyes peeled for aggressors. Let's get this bounty." He gestured with his hand to move forward and set off in a half crouch up the ravine. The others followed, looking round them as they went. I dipped my head lower as they passed, my smile turning nasty as they crossed into my secret weapon.

There was no explosion, no sparks, nothing to signal the effects of my perfect trap until the men let out a surprised cry and started cursing.

"My goggles, they're down."

"Mine too, what the fuck?"

That's right boys, you're on my level now, I chuckled as I slowly slid myself back from the edge of the ravine and hopped back up into a crouch. Time to get to work.

"Great, I can't see shit now." I heard Hawkins curse as I dashed back up the ravine edge, towards the middle of the forest.

"Eyes peeled. We'll have to go analogue." I heard the mercenaries continue on behind me. If I was correct in my prediction they would stay in the ravine until it levelled out, where they would find a conveniently handy path for them to follow. Once I was sure I was out of earshot of the men I sprinted parallel to the path and located the tree I was after. Without hesitating I scaled it nimbly, my years of clambering up trees and driving my parents potty as a child paying off now. I came to a large branch and straddled it, staring down at the path below. I glanced behind me checking this was indeed the tree I wanted, and smiled wolfishly as I saw the steel wire wrapped around the trunk just a little bit below where my branch was.

The unsuspecting mercenaries had walked into my masterpiece. It had taken me six months to build and another year to perfect but now it was the best defence against any enemy. I had set up an industrial strength EMP field which transmitted throughout the forest, surrounding our safe haven. Anyone coming into it with anything electronic wouldn't be able to use it for the duration of their visit to my charming forest. That was anything with a microchip, which included all guns now by law. It had saved my ass on a number of occasions, when I was getting used to being constantly hunted. My stealth was better now, but there had been a few times I had ended up on the wrong end of a gun and only my EMP had stopped me from getting shot in the face.

I could hear the men crashing through the undergrowth now. Mercenaries were never ones for stealth, they were more the 'if it moves shoot it' type of killers. I watched from my perch as they advanced up the path as I had predicted, still scanning the trees for signs of their imaginary army. I had long since stopped being offended by people underestimating me; it actually worked to my advantage a lot of the time. I let out a humourless snort as they reached my tree, missing me again.

"Peters, this is ridiculous. I can't see shit." The man called Hawkins was complaining again, this time the leader ignored him gesturing for his team to keep moving forward. I kept my eyes glued on his route, one step, two steps, three steps. Peters vanished in flurry of dead leaves and twigs, letting out a muted cry as he fell into the ten-foot deep hole I had dug in the earth. The rest of his team stopped, stunned by their leaders sudden disappearing act. A sickening crunch and thud came from the pit as Peters connected with the large boulders I had dumped at the bottom. There was a pause before his scream of pain echoed out into the forest, I shrugged indifferently; it hadn't killed him, but I could work on that.

His team gathered around the edge of the pit, swearing and shouting down to their leader.

"Peters, you ok?"

"What's broken?"

There was an agonising grunt as Peters obviously tried to stand, then a yelp as he inevitably failed. "Shit, both my legs are done in." I saw one of the masked men turn to another, Hawkins voice sounded as he barked an instruction at his team mate.

"Thomas, get the quad. There's a rope on the back." One of the team ran off back the way they had come. I let him go, he wasn't a concern if he was running out of the woods, I just didn't want them going forward. I shifted my position on the branch, the men were in exactly the right spot for my next surprise. I unhooked the machete from my belt and leant down until I felt a taunt wire below me.

The men were circling the pit, talking in panicked voices. I waited patiently for them to line up in just the right way, gently touching the wire with my machete. Just as I was happy with their location, Hawkins suddenly swore loudly, throwing his hands in the air.

"This is fucking ridiculous. I'm going to scot around see if I can see any of the fuckers responsible for this. You coming?" The other two mercenaries glanced at each other then back to the disgruntled Hawkins.

"Mate, we're better off sticking together. Get Peters out then regroup." Hawkins gave an irritated growl then dismissed them, waving a hand at them.

"Fuck you then. I'm not staying here to be picked off." I watched him march off up the path, his rifle raised in front of him. He was a problem I would deal with in a minute. The other men had changed their positions again and I had to wait for them stand in the line of fire of my trap once more. Eventually they stopped, both looking down into the pit, in a perpendicular line to my tree. With a grim smile I drew the machete back and gave the wire below my branch a decisive whack.

I felt the wire give way with a metallic ping, releasing the tension trap holding back a thin line of razor wire set at stomach height on the other side of the path. Free of its binding the razor wire whipped across from my tree to another tree opposite, the men slap bang in the centre of its path. There was a faint squelching sound and a resounding crack as the wire passed through the obstacles in its way. The men stood still for a moment, unsure what had just happened, Peters called up to them from below.

"Boys, what's wrong?" They didn't respond; they didn't do anything until they finally collapsed on the edge of the pit, their upper body separating from their lower half in a neat line that cut through their abdomens. I heard Peters' screams of horror as he watched his comrades get sliced in two. "Oh my god, jesus fucking christ!"

Checking Hawkins wasn't in the vicinity and Thomas hadn't returned with his quad bike I hopped down from my hiding place and strolled over to the grisly scene. The men's faces had a frozen expression of shock, their eyes wide and white in the darkness. I walked over to stare down into the pit and at the trapped mercenary below. His face wore a similar expression to his dismembered comrades for a moment, then his training kicked in and he fired his automatic rifle at me. The shocked, anger quickly turned to confusion as instead of emitting a loud retort and blasting me in the face, his gun gave a disappointing click and refused to work. He focused his gaze back on me and I gave him a nasty smile.

"Sorry buddy. That won't work here." I moved around the edge of the pit keeping my eyes on my prey, until I reached a large boulder placed near it just off the path. "Apologies for this, it's a new trap and I was kind of hoping the fall would kill you." His eyes widen at my comment, I continued smoothly. "Don't worry, I have a back up plan." I moved away from the edge and began pushing the heavy boulder towards the lip of the hole. Peters heard the approaching rock and began to shout at me.

"Wait, hold on. We can talk about this." I gritted my teeth, blocking out the man's cries as the boulder reached the precipice and teetered for a moment, before tipping forward and crashing down on top of the mercenary below. Peters' voice was cut off and I knew the job was finished. I was just gathering my thoughts, preparing to track Hawkins when I heard the unmistakable sound of an engine coming towards me. I growled in frustration, my EMP didn't disable old petrol engines; only the newer electric vehicles were susceptible to it.

I ducked quickly into the undergrowth, well out of sight of the path and the carnage I had created. The quad bike roared up the ravine and screeched to a fault in from of the pit. I saw the driver take in the sight of his brutally murdered teammates and let out a loud curse, before revving his engine and tearing off further into the forest. Now he was a pressing concern. I left the path and sprinted back towards the clearing and Tobias, I had to catch that quad.

I stumbled into the clearing, startling the waiting stallion. Having no time to calm him, I hurriedly untied him and vaulted onto his back. Tobias reared up in fright before I gathered my reins and spurred him into a gallop. The trees flashed past terrifyingly close, but I trusted the stallion with my life. The sound of the quad bike's engine was still audible, and I steered Tobias in the direction of the sound. We were at a disadvantage, the quad was on a path and we were in the undergrowth. I hoped the driver would steer his vehicle into one of my many traps, but most were designed for on foot assailants not off road vehicles.

The trees began to thin and my heart sank as I realised the mercenary was going to make it to the fields beyond. This meant two things; one, he would be free of my forest of death traps and on easier footing, and two his gun would no longer be disabled by my EMP barrier. We burst out of the forest to see the quad bike racing up the field towards the hills beyond. Tobias sensed my urgency at seeing the heavily armed man heading towards the farmhouse and Seren, and lengthened his stride.

The quad was fast, but Tobias was faster, we were slowly gaining on the mercenary. I saw him glance behind, doing a double take when he saw me in hot pursuit. Keeping one hand on the steering he swung the other round to point his perfectly working automatic rifle at me. I cursed loudly and pulled the reins sharply, making Tobias jack knife at a ninety-degree angle away from the loud burst of gunfire. Letting go of the reins I retrieved my bow from my back and drew an arrow from the quiver attached to the saddle. Tobias knew what to do; no longer steering I pushed my feet down in my stirrups to give me a steady seat and pulled the bowstring back, keeping the arrow level with my eye.

We were almost at the top of the hill, I couldn't let him reach it. I gave Tobias a kick, pushing him to go faster. The horse kept his course directly behind the roaring quad bike, the man kept glancing behind trying to get a clear shot of me. I adjusted my aim to compensate for Tobias rocking gait and took a breath in. Everything faded out around me, seeming to slow. The engine dulled to a distant rumble, the rain didn't sting as much, the wind quieting to a breeze. I pointed the sharp, metal tip of my arrow at the base of the man's neck and let the bowstring go.

The arrow buried itself in the man's neck, severing his spinal cord and piercing his jugular. He fell gracefully to one side, the quad bike racing off without its driver for a few seconds before stalling and rolling back down the hill. I grasped Tobias' reins again with one hand and slowed him to a brisk trot, advancing on the immobile man in front of me. Making sure he was defiantly dead, his glassy eyes staring up into the rain, I let out a shaky breath. That had been a close one. Leaning down, I pulled the arrow from the corpse and put it back with the others in my quiver. I couldn't rest for long, four down, one to go. I turned Tobias back towards the forest and dismounted at the edge. Hawkins had disappeared off down the path, chances were he was either nearing the edge of the forest or had been stopped by one of my traps. I hoped it was the latter.

It didn't take me long to find the obnoxious Hawkins, he was wailing like a stuck pig a few feet off the path. He was on the floor clutching at his leg, which was stuck in a rusty bear trap. The loud cursing was enough to raise his dead comrades, and I rolled my eyes as I walked nonchalantly towards him. He stopped as he caught sight of me, his expression furious as he grabbed his rifle and tried to shoot me like his leader had. The same result occurred, and with a scream of frustration he threw his useless gun to one side and stared at me.

"Fuck you bitch." He spat at me. I raised my eyebrows at him, slowly unhooking the machete from my belt again.

"That's not going to help you." I retorted calmly. The mercenary eyed the ugly looking blade warily. I stopped a few feet away from the incapacitated man, my expression stern. "Who hired you?" I asked simply. I already knew the answer, but I always asked just to be sure my enemy hadn't changed. Hawkins glared at me, a look of resignation on his face. He knew there was no way out of this.

"Who the fuck do you think? Cicada you dumb cow." I nodded solemnly, no change there. Without another word I strode forward, gripping the machete tightly. Hawkins' eyes widen just like his comrades' and he waved his hands trying to stop me. I ignored him, like I ignored all of the men who tried to harm my family, and with a strong swing of my arm I severed the head from his body. It bounced comically a few paces before settling, the face staring blankly up into the canopy of the forest.

They were still out for my blood then, it seemed Cicada weren't going to quit in a hurry. And I would continue to kill and bury the men they sent, until they gave up or there were no more men. Slowly I wiped the blood from the machete, no feeling in me at all. This was just how it was now; it was just about surviving.

…

It was close to midnight by the time I trudged back into the kitchen, removing my sodden coat and boots. Uncle Rhydian was sat at the table, his hands clasped in front of him, staring at the door I had just entered through.

"How long have you been there?" I asked, stretching my aching joints. My body exhausted from the two hunts I had been through today. My Uncle didn't respond, his hard, hazel eyes glinting in the dim light. I sighed and plonked myself down in the seat near the wood-burning stove, letting the heat wash through me.

Eventually my Uncle spoke in his gravelly voice, "Everything alright?" My eyes were struggling to stay open as the adrenaline left my body. I tilted my head lazily towards the old man.

"Yeah, all okay. Nothing to report." I heard him harrumph at my vague response. I didn't ever give him the gory details, nor had I ever physically come out and admitted what I did to protect us but my Uncle wasn't an idiot.

"Clean up okay did you?" His tone was disapproving as always and I sensed an angle on the conversation. Forcing my body to wake up again, I sat up straighter and turned to face him properly.

"It's all fine. I dealt with the problem like I always do and I didn't get hurt. You won't be seeing that drone again." I frowned at my Uncle, annoyed at his judgemental look. I knew what I did was wrong, but it was only out of self-defence. If I hadn't put those traps in the forest and hardened up to the more violent situations I had been in then we would all be dead, and Seren would be in some god awful lab somewhere. In my mind it was all worth it, at least I tried to repeat that as often as possible to drown out the screaming.

"I see." The tone of my Uncle's voice meant he didn't see at all. "Morgan." The way he said my name I knew I was in for a lecture. I kept my face blank as he stared at me sternly, looking at me as if I was still a little girl. I guess I was in his eyes. "I know you love Seren, of course you do. But there really has to be another way to keep her safe. We can't keep living like this, she can't." Ever since Seren had started asking questions about the world outside the farm, we had been having this argument almost daily. I averted my gaze from his pointed stare and focused on my bruised and muddied hands.

"It's not safe. I can't explain why, but I don't think it will ever be safe enough. I hope it is one day, for her sake. All I wanted was for her to live a normal life." My eyes felt wet as I looked back up at my Uncle. I wanted nothing more than to grant Seren's wish to leave the farm now and then, but tonight had been all the evidence I needed that it was safer here than anywhere else.

"I'm not going to argue with you tonight about not telling me exactly who or what is after you and Seren, even though I think I deserve to know." His voice became darker as he continued; "After all, you are using my land as a mass gravesite." I looked away again, I knew he turned a blind eye, but hearing him say it out loud made my insides squirm uncomfortably.

"I need to go to town tomorrow and Seren was asking to come." My head snapped up sharply, the anger in my voice barely concealed.

"Why? I just got us food enough to last, why do you need to go again?" Uncle Rhydian stood up slowly, obviously trying to bring this conversation to a close.

"I need to get medicine for one of my ewes. Contrary to your efforts Morgan, this is still a farm and I need to keep farming." I glared at him for a moment, the logic of his argument hard to fight against.

"Fine. I'll deal with Seren tomorrow." I already felt weary just thinking about the heated debate that I was bound to have with her. My Uncle gave me a small smile.

"The eastern herd needs to be brought in. Take her with you." I sighed and nodded. He turned and started to walk towards the stairs, I focused on the fire next to me. The hypnotic rhythm of the flames making my eyelids droop once more. His low, rumbling voice sounded from the doorway dragging me back from oblivion for a second time. "Morgan, I worry about you." I turned my head lethargically to look at him.

"Why?" His eyes were suddenly filled with sincere concern.

"I worry that in trying to save her humanity, you risk losing yours." My heart jolted at his comment. I swear sometimes my Uncle knew more about Seren's origins than he let on, then I remembered that was impossible. Still, when he said things like that it made me feel guilty for treating him like an ignorant idiot.

I gave my Uncle a reassuring smile. "It's okay. I won't." He stared at me for a moment, his eyes seeming to look straight through me. Then he sighed and disappeared up the stairs. I sat gazing into the fire, his words swirling round my head. Absentmindedly, I reached into my pocket and gripped onto the small piece of metal that was my comforter. Noticing what I was doing I pulled out the silver coin, rubbing my thumb over the embossed symbol of the ICA. The coin was scuffed and worn down now from years of me worrying it, it was all I had to connect me to my past however, so I refused to throw it away. Sometimes it was good to remember where I had been, it gave me clarity, reminded me that he was still out there somewhere. Hopefully.

I stared at the coin in my hand, the fire's reflection dancing on the shiny surface, until finally I drifted into an uneasy, well-deserved sleep.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The morning dawned grey but thankfully dry, I wasn't sure I could endure another wet day on the mountainside. Seren picked listlessly at her breakfast as Uncle Rhydian readied himself to go to town. I kept flicking guilty glances at the girl, it had taken me all morning but I had finally persuaded her to come with me instead.

"Alright girls, I'll see you later. Anything you want from town blodwyn?" Seren turned her large blue eyes to stare balefully at my Uncle. I rolled mine watching her flagrant attempt to guilt trip him.

"No Uncle Rudy. I'll be fine." Seren had a knack of wrapping people round her little finger that I was sure she didn't get from her paternal donor. He had always struggled with human interactions, even when it was imperative to a contract. Uncle Rhydian sighed and patted her affectionately on the head. Seren jutted her bottom lip out, gazing up at him with betrayal written on her face. I finished drying the dish I was holding and turned to her, my hands on my hips.

"Enough. Uncle Rudy has to go now. Besides I need you to help me in the fields." Seren dropped her act, flicking an annoyed glance at me.

"Bye Uncle Rudy." She mumbled as she pushed the scrambled eggs I had given her around her plate. My Uncle looked at her sadly before giving me a curt nod and leaving through the back door. I rubbed my forehead; I could feel a headache forming. It seemed everyone was annoyed at me this morning, sometimes I tired of always being the bad cop but it was for her own good.

I listened to the sound of my Uncle's old land rover starting up and disappearing into the distance. It was a distinct noise that I didn't hear as often now. Even the isolated town nearby was dominated by all electric, self-driving cars; the sound of a petrol engine was becoming a rare occurrence. I tidied the modest, country kitchen around my sulking child. A day with Seren would be good for us both, I had been focused on keeping our food store full and renewing the defences around the farm for the past month. I couldn't remember the last time I had spent all day with her, alone.

"Come on then missus. Finish eating and we'll head out." Seren didn't respond and I felt my heart squeeze uncomfortably at her miserable demeanour. A light bulb suddenly flicked on inside my head, and I leant in to put my head next to hers. Her soft brown hair tickled my face as I pressed my cheek against her head and wrapped my arms around her in a warm hug. "If you hurry up we can take Tobias."

I felt her come alive in my arms, the excited joy radiating off of her. "Really? Thanks ma!" She crowed, as she shovelled the rest of her breakfast down at a rate of knots. I couldn't help laughing at the sight of her bulging cheeks.

"Slow down cariad. You'll choke." She paid me no attention as she polished off her breakfast at record speed and began running up the stairs with egg still in her mouth. I shook my head chuckling; she was easily pleased at least. Within seconds it seemed she was back down, dressed, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, already pulling on her coat and boots. Finally the whirlwind stopped, and only three minutes after asking her to get ready, she stood panting and grinning at me by the door.

"Very impressive." I commented dryly, as I shrugged on my own coat. She bounced impatiently on the balls of her feet as I slid my boots on and opened the door. Seren bounded outside into the morning mist, it had rolled off the hills and gathered in the basin where the farmhouse sat creating an eerie atmosphere. The small girl was unperturbed however, dancing around in the thick, white fog her arms failing out by her sides. A large smile stretched across my face at the sight of the unbridled joy of a child. A gave a loud, sharp whistle and Gelert dashed obediently to my side.

At the sight of the dog Seren went into overdrive, she leapt on the poor, old mutt and hugged him tightly. Gelert licked at her face initially before letting out a pained yelp, as Seren got too excited, crushing him to her chest.

"Seren!" I scolded harshly, instantly she dropped him like he was on fire. She stared at me wide eyed, her face a mask of remorse. The loyal sheepdog recovered quickly from his assault and nudged her hand, licking her fingers kindly. "Be careful." I told her softly, instantly regretting my outburst, souring the happy mood that had been here moments before. Seren patted the dog's head by way of an apology, before hanging her's and following me to Tobias' stable.

Her growing strength was a nagging worry in my mind. At her age any normal child would be learning to control their actions, finding their limits and testing them, but she wasn't a normal child. Her daily struggle to understand what was a gentle touch and what could break bones was something that filled me with fear. I couldn't read any books on child growth, I literally had no idea what she would become; she was a complete mystery.

I stroked her hair in reassurance as I opened Tobias' stall. She smiled up at me sweetly, my heart growing warm under her trusting gaze. The stallion snorted as I entered, today would definitely be an easier day than yesterday. Seren watched, fascinated as I put his saddle on and wrestled with his enormous head, pulling on his bridle. His hooves echoed on the tarmac as I led him out onto the yard. "Here." I called to Seren, holding my arms out. She stood in front of me, letting me lift her high into the air before placing her carefully in the saddle. She gripped onto the leather, a tiny figure dwarfed by the giant stallion underneath her.

I left Tobias standing patiently with the little girl safe on his back, as I went into the food store. I stowed my bow and quiver on my back and returned outside; herding sheep wasn't exactly dangerous work. But I never wanted to be caught off guard without a weapon, especially with Seren in tow. I saw her glance at the bow slung across my back as I pulled myself up into the saddle, settling behind her. Her serious expression and the way she had looked at the weapon made my stomach clench in a familiar way, at least she didn't talk to me like he had; yet.

Forcing the disturbing thought to the back of my mind I placed my arms around Seren, taking the reins and giving Tobias a nudge. He walked forward instantly, Gelert easily keeping pace behind. As we left the misty yard, Seren pointed at something near the entrance.

"Where did that come from?" I followed her finger, it was directed at the mercenaries' quad bike. I had brought it back from the South field last night, figuring we could put it to use.

"I found it. Now we have two, so you can help out with the herding more when you're bigger." Seren didn't respond, but I could feel her tense slightly at my dismissive comment. She was too smart for her own good, I knew she suspected I was hiding the bike's true origin but I would keep what I did to protect this place from her as long as possible. I had read enough on Victoria; the genetically enhanced girl 47 had saved before, to know that exposing Seren to violence would likely send her down the wrong path. The quad bike disappeared into the mist behind us as I urged Tobias into a gentle canter, tightening my arms around Seren ever so slightly.

The mist began to clear as we climbed the hillside, the farm getting smaller behind us. As we neared the top of the hill I turned Tobias towards the east and the large mountain in between the herd and us. This was one of my favourite routes, it was a winding, adrenaline fuelled ride on the edge of one of the stark looking mountains that surrounded the farm. The winds had died down since yesterday, but there was still a biting breeze on the exposed ridge. I leant in so Seren could hear me better.

"You ready?" I asked, excitement already emanating from her. She bounced a little in the saddle.

"Go! Go!" She crowed happily, the awkward atmosphere from my outburst dissipating in the open air. I grinned widely as I leant forward, pinning Seren firmly down in the saddle and squeezed my legs to give Tobias the signal he had been waiting for. He knew the drill, I regularly liked to gallop up here with him, so with only the slightest nudge the huge, black stallion launched himself along the brow of the hill towards the mountain path ahead.

Seren let out a joyful shriek, the wind picking up pace with our change in speed. I glanced quickly behind to make sure the old sheepdog was keeping up; Gelert was streaking along, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. I turned my head forward again, my grin widening at the sight of the dog's enjoyment at the run. We reached the path, angling up a steep incline Tobias negotiated the rocky ground easily. On one side the grey wall of the mountain rose up disappearing into the clouds, on the other side the ground dropped away harshly into the valley below.

My adrenaline spiked as I looked down at the deadly drop, but I wasn't afraid of falling. I trusted Tobias, he knew this path and had never put a foot wrong on it. Staring out over the valley as we galloped on, it felt like flying. Seren obviously thought the same as she let go of the front of the saddle and raised her arms out to either side, giggling ecstatically as she did. At least she wasn't miserable about not going to town anymore, I thought pushing Tobias to go faster as we finished climbing, the path levelling out as it moved round the mountain.

The East fields ran up the side of the mountain, a vast expanse of bracken and heather where my Uncle's largest flock of sheep was kept. We left the path and tore onto the start of the field, I scanned the sea of waving bracken looking for specs of white. The sky was beginning to lighten and I felt my spirits lifting after the events of last night. Tobias thundered on, I angled him down the sloping field, sweeping back and forth searching for my Uncle's sheep.

"Are they hiding, ma?" Seren called out to me, twisting her head to try and see my face. I glanced down at her.

"Maybe." She stared up at me for a moment. I slowed Tobias back to a canter, making it easier to look for the herd.

"Are you going to track them like the deer?" I laughed at her comment.

"They're sheep Seren. Should be easy enough to find." We continued on for a few minutes, getting further and further down the mountain until I could see the field levelling out. There was a small copse of woodland on a rise to our right; I knew the field kept going for another mile before it reached the forest border. I hoped the flock hadn't decided to graze too close to it, deflecting Seren's insistent questioning hadn't been on my agenda today. Finally I caught sight of a flash of white near the woodland, immediately I adjusted our course to head towards the cotton wool shaped creatures in the distance.

"There, there." Seren pointed enthusiastically towards the sheep as they slowly got bigger. It was them alright, a flock of about eighty grazing happily in the late Summer sunshine.

"I see them cariad. Let's move them on shall we." I pulled on the reins, Tobias slowed to a steady trot and I checked to see where Gelert was. The sheepdog was staring up at me expectantly, keeping himself level with Tobias' hindquarters. We advanced on the large flock, a few of the ewes looked up at our approach, their large eyes staring at us blankly. Seren sat quietly as I worked out our route, then I gave a long, loud whistle and Gelert darted off, quick as lightning around the herd. I spurred Tobias back into a canter and circled the opposite way to the sheepdog. The sheep started to bleat in panic as Gelert closed in behind them, I closed off their escape with the stallion, keeping the sheep tightly packed together.

Letting out a burst of short, sharp whistles Gelert and I gradually pushed the large group of sheep back towards the mountain pass. My Uncle wanted them on our side of the mountain before the Autumn storms hit. The flock became a living, breathing mass, moving as one like starlings coming in to roost. I kept my eyes on the edges, moving Gelert any time his side threatened to split and blocking the paths of any sheep trying to bolt my side. Gradually we shunted and cajoled the sheep to the mouth of the mountain path I had arrived on. This was the tricky part, the narrow rocky ledge was intimidating to the sheep and I had to guide them onto it single file. My whistle reverberated of the mountain as Gelert and I closed in on the rear of the flock. I watched as the lead sheep tentatively started walking along the stony path, one by one their herd followed bleating loudly in stress at being forced onto the dangerous path.

They had done this journey every year, sheep were sure footed and I wasn't concerned about them on the precarious ledge. We were more than halfway through, only a third of the originally massive flock left on our side. I nudged Tobias ever forward, Seren watching attentively as I commanded Gelert to keep the sheep in line. Suddenly a loud, panicked cry went up from one of the sheep at the front as the rest of the herd surged forward unexpectedly, making the front sheep loose its footing and go tumbling down the mountainside.

"Shit." I cursed, not caring about Seren being in earshot. The fluffy, white beast rolled and bounced out of sight, its bleating growing fainter as it fell to its death. The sheep left in the East field panicked at the sight of one of their own meeting a grisly end. A group of about twelve broke off and began tearing off down the hill. "God damn it." I cursed loudly, my head whipping back and forth between the remaining sheep still filing onto the path and the break away pack.

"Ma, the sheep. It fell." Seren's shocked voice broke through my concentration and I flicked another glance at the flock on the path. They would be fine, I summarised, they could only go forward on the narrow walkway and would reach the other field without my guidance. I doubted whether my Uncle would appreciate losing thirteen sheep in one day, so without acknowledging Seren's distress I yanked Tobias' head round and kicked him to a gallop.

Seren gripped onto the saddle instinctively, but I still closed my arms around her little to keep her secure. The sheep had already disappeared down the mountainside and were drawing level with the small woodland. Tobias raced after them, I gave a loud whistle and Gelert passed us, a brown and grey blur in the bracken. The stallion was galloping at full speed, but the sheep were panicked and running for their lives, and Tobias had two passengers instead of one. I growled through my teeth as I watched the breakaway group slip further and further ahead. The bolting sheep passed the woods and vanished over the dip, as we drew level with the copse of trees I let out a loud curse as I caught sight of the sheep heading towards the forest in the distance. I knew at our current speed they were going to reach the treeline before I could stop them. Making a quick decision I leant back, pulling the reins and bringing Tobias to a swift stop.

I leapt off the horse's back and pulled Seren down off of him. "Seren, you need to stay here. Stay with Gelert." She looked up at me, her blue eyes confused. I called the sheep dog to me, and he came to stand faithfully by her side.

"But ma I want to help get the sheep back." Her tiny hands were clenching and unclenching into fists, the frustration at being left behind evident on her face.

"No cariad. I won't be long, just promise you'll stay here with Gelert." Her brow furrowed as I stared down at her, pleadingly. Eventually she nodded and grasped the sheepdog's collar with one hand. "Good girl. Don't move okay." I hauled myself back into the saddle and spurred Tobias on once more. Glancing back, my heart tugged painfully as her tiny figure receded into the distance and the forest loomed large ahead of me. I slowed Tobias to a trot and ducked as we entered the dense undergrowth.

This part of the forest was hard to navigate, there were few natural paths in amongst the shrubs. It was also riddled with traps, as the eastern perimeter was harder for me to get to I had made sure it was well defended without me having to be here. I just hoped the sheep hadn't stumbled into any of them; that would be an awkward conversation to have with my Uncle. There was a faint trail through the undergrowth where the spooked sheep had dashed through, snapping twigs and trampling brambles. Tobias was walking now, unable to go any faster. I stopped him and jumped off, I was better off on foot from here. I could find the sheep quicker and herd them out by flanking them.

Tethering the stallion to a nearby tree I waded into the shoulder height bushes, trying to remember where I had positioned my traps. "God damn sheep." I muttered as I skirted round an open bear trap, its rusting teeth jutting out of the ferns I had laid on top of it. I felt a building sense of frustration and guilt at leaving Seren, but how could I explain to the child if I brought her in here there was a chance the very thing I had built to protect her could end up killing her. The EMP transmitting throughout the forest knocked out anything with a microchip, exactly like the one inserted into Seren's brain. I had no idea if the EMP would knock her out by temporarily disabling her chip, or completely fry it destroying her brain in the process. Regardless I didn't want to find out, and turning off the EMP was a no go as I wasn't sure I would ever get it back on. In the end it meant having to deflect the child's curiosity, that or risk losing her, something I was not prepared to do.

I could hear muted bleating up ahead and I slowed my walk so as not to startle them further. I began to walk away from the trail the sheep had made, trying to keep their cries on my right. My aim was to flank them and cut off their progress to the other side of the forest, then begin driving them back out to the fields. I kept moving, their bleating growing louder the undergrowth slowly beginning to thin. I stepped carefully over a trip wire spread taunt across my path, and heard the sheep begin to move behind me. Good, I was nearly in front of them. I still couldn't see the animals, I could barely see anything but my ears were doing a good job of locating them.

Suddenly their bleating grew in volume and they were panicking once more. I stopped, closing my eyes in annoyance as I heard them crashing off into the undergrowth, running away from me. What had scared them? I was sure I had been as stealthy as I could. I turned to follow their stampede through the forest, noting that I had reached the other side of the forest now, the weak sunlight peeking through the trees. Stomping my way through brambles and bushes I glanced to my left to see the wild, unkempt shrub land beyond. There was a dirt track leading up to the forest here that I had blocked off with a barbed wire fence years ago.

I stopped, squinting at the unassuming track now. I could have sworn I could see fresh tyre tracks in it, but that was impossible no one drove this way anymore and the town was on the opposite side of the farm. I walked on, the sheep still making enough noise to make following them fairly easy. Keeping one eye on the track as I went I reached the place where it met the forest, and where my fence stretched across it, a 'Keep Out' sign attached to it.

I froze, my blood running icy cold as I looked at the impossible object parked in front of that fence. A sleek, black Audi sat facing the forest. It stood out instantly as it was an older model, not an electric, self-driving car, an old school petrol engine, 'do it yourself' job. It wasn't that that made me stop and stare in fixated terror, it was the familiarity of it. There were a lot of black Audis in the world probably, but there was only one I had spent nearly a month travelling around Europe in, running for our lives at times.

There was no sign of the driver, and I whipped my head around, scanning the dark trees for a flash of red. There was nothing, my heart was beating so loud I couldn't hear anything anymore, let alone the stray sheep which were pushed to the back of my mind now. A cold horror over came me; he was here. Finally, the thing I had dreaded the most had happened, and I wasn't entirely sure I was prepared. Adrenaline shot through me at the thought of seeing him again after all this time, but then a territorial anger over took it, and I reached behind me to retrieve my bow. This was my land and he was not welcome here.

I was just starting to crouch and prepare to track the assassin that had come for my family and me, when a sharp jolt of shock shot though me. Seren! She was alone and exposed in the fields beyond. I straightened up instantly and began to sprint back the way I had come, hoping and praying I would get to her before the infamous 47 did.


	5. Chapter 4

47

Chapter 4

Wales was a grey, lonely place. I had never been here before, and I could see why. Very little seemed to happen here, all I had done was drive to the town near the location of my target but every man, woman and child had appeared suspicious of my noisy Audi and me in general. The world was more technologically advanced now, but Wales hadn't been affected by it. True, there were still a good number of electric, self-driving cars but the country seemed to be stuck in the past with everything else. The signal had begun dropping on my mobile ever since crossing the bridge from England.

The village I was driving through now had an unpronounceable name, Welsh was a language I had no idea existed until this contract and I was unsure whether it was a real language even now. The small stone buildings were packed together on a steep slop as I drove past them on the narrow lanes; tiny pockets of civilization in a sea of farmland and wilderness. I steered the car round winding roads, the impressive shadow of the mountains looming over me. I had to admit it was beautiful, in a stark, formidable way, but the never-ending expanse of shrub land and sleepy villages wasn't something that appealed to me. The very thought of staying here for an extended period of time made me shiver in disgust.

I drove past a sign stating I was five miles out from the town I was heading to. I would touch base with Diana once there; hopefully she would have some more intel on the exact location of my target and this child. That was if I could find a decent signal, my phone was really struggling now I had come off the main highway and entered the deep valleys cutting through the mountain range. I was starting to see why Cicada had had such a hard time getting to this person, without the Internet they were no better than the rest of us. My mouth twitched up into a small smirk at the thought of them having to come to me for help, after everything they had done to the agency it seemed a sweet kind of irony that we were their last hope.

The itching that warned I had not had a drink for a few hours started to rear its head at the back of my mind. I gripped the steering wheel a little tighter in my discomfort, pushing my foot down on the accelerator to speed my journey along. The last thing I needed was to start hallucinating on tricky, unfamiliar roads. I hadn't seen Perry since the motel in Chicago, keeping myself in a constant state of numbness was inconvenient but that last encounter had been hard to recover from.

Finally a sign welcoming me to Cwmtref appeared on the side of the road. I slowed the Audi as I scanned the same stone fronted houses I had seen on the ride here, looking for a suitable place to stop. The houses opened up onto a small town square. There was a clock in the centre of the cobbled area, flanked by shops, a post office and a pub, its colourful wooden sign swaying in the mountain breeze. I parked the Audi in the square; the few people wandering around this time of the morning gave me odd stares. I gritted my teeth in annoyance at the alert, curiosity of the locals. Stepping out of the old Audi I noticed the stares increasing, a car like mine in a place like this was suspicious enough, but I knew I didn't fit in at all here. I stubbornly ignored the looks of the plain looking people as I strode across the square to the pub. The itch becoming too much to block out anymore.

Inside I felt like I had stepped even further back in time. The walls were exposed stone, the same stone that all the houses seemed to be built of here. There was a large open fire in one corner of the room, it was roaring at the moment, one thing I had noticed about this country it was cold even in the height of Summer. A long wooden bar took up the centre of the room, a jumble of chairs and tables orientated around it. A few patrons sat at the tables, narrowing their eyes at me as I entered. A rotund man stood behind the bar, he had been deep in conversation with another man, wearing a muddy coat and boots, I assumed a farmer. However, both men were now staring at me suspiciously, their conversation forgotten.

The atmosphere of the pub was suddenly very cold, despite the fire dominating the room. I wasn't too bothered, I was used to receiving a less than warm reception in the places I went, but it was usually after someone had died unexpectedly not before. Still, I was here on a contract so wasn't going to be easily dissuaded. I walked over to the bartender and placed my hands on the bar, drawing myself to my full height so that the patrons didn't get any funny ideas. This didn't seem like a violent place, I had travelled to country where the people would sooner shoot you than talk to you, still I wasn't taking anything for granted. That kind of thinking would get me killed.

"Can I help you?" The bartender's accent reminded me of Perry, hers hadn't been as thick as his, but the musical intonation was familiar. The itching intensified and I decided a drink was my first priority; I wasn't going to be able to concentrate on Diana's briefing if I was imagining my former handler sat beside me.

"Got any whisky?" I asked in a low voice. The bartender's eyes widened slightly at my accent, obviously he was having trouble placing where I was from. He cast a nervous glance towards the farmer still leaning on the bar giving me an unfriendly stare. When his friend didn't respond to his panicked look he turned back to me and nodded uncertainly.

"Sure. How much you want butt?" I frowned at the odd phrase stuck on the end of his question, but decided to put it down to one of the quirks of living in the back of beyond.

"Double please. No ice." I needed a strong hit; I could feel the tension in my head building. I half expected her to walk through the door of the pub as the bemused bartender put my drink in front of me. Eagerly I downed it, the patrons watching me as I placed the empty glass back down on the bar.

"Another?" The bartender asked, his voice wavering. I nodded and rubbed a hand over my face as the numbness started to spread through me in a blissful wave. I'd bought myself a few hours at least, and by then I hoped I'd be distracting myself with the elimination of my target. The farmer shifted his position as I took my second drink from the bartender.

"Where to you from then?" I paused, eyeing the man critically. He had a wizened old face, with a gap toothed sneer. His eyes were sharp however, and I was careful not to say too much.

"Abroad." The farmer's scowl deepened, I was aware of the bartender and other patrons listening in on the exchange.

"Tourists eh? Don't look much like a tourist." I felt a growing sense of irritation towards the nosy farmer. If this were a busier establishment I would have found a way to get him alone then knocked him out for his troubles. Somehow I had a feeling that wouldn't work if I tried it in this place, where everyone seemed to know each other. One man missing would likely cause a riot.

"I'm here on…business." You could hear a pin drop in the room, my interrogator rolled his eyes and smirked at the bartender.

"Look boy, we may look like a bunch of country bumpkins, but we aren't stupid." I glanced around me; the other patrons weren't hiding their interest in the conversation anymore. All eyes were on me. I felt my muscles tense instinctively at the unwanted attention. The farmer leant towards me, his finger jabbing in my direction. "I'll tell you what I told the others, you go up to that farm you ain't coming back. No one ever does." My interest was piqued, it looked like I wouldn't need Diana's intel, the locals seemed keen to contribute.

"Farm?" I asked nonchalantly, keeping my eyes locked onto the decrepit old man. He sneered nastily at me then.

"You know what I mean. Only reason you city slickers and army brats appear here is to try your luck up at Brynddu farm. You all come arrogant and sure of yourselves, drive off in your Audis and your pickups and we never see hind nor hair of you again. Think you're going to be any different? I'll eat my right boot if you are." The old farmer leant back, a smug look on his wrinkled face. The tense atmosphere was thick enough to cut. I felt the burn of a dozen sets of eyes burrowing into me from all angles.

I gave a quiet snort of amusement, then drained my second glass of whiskey. I placed it gently down in front of the bartender, my mouth curving up into a half smile. "Thank you gentlemen. This has been…enlightening." Slowly I turned, making eye contact with everyone in the room until they looked away. They only one who persisted was the farmer, still wearing his smug expression. As I reached the door to the pub he called out behind me.

"Good luck then boy. And be careful of them hungry woods." He let out a loud guffaw as I left the pub, frowning deeply.

…

"Hungry woods? What do you think he meant by that?" Diana's voice was distant, and kept breaking up as I discussed my findings. I was sat in the Audi on the outskirts of the town, my mobile on speaker as I looked at a map of the local area.

"Not sure. Sounded like a threat." I traced my finger on the map from the tiny cluster of houses where I was currently located towards a large ring of forest. I let my finger stop on a small dot in the centre of the forest, surrounded by mountain peaks and fields. Brynddu Farm it read in small letters. "I think our guy is holed up in this farm." Diana didn't respond for a moment, I let her think as I plotted the best route to my potential target.

"The locals all but said as much. There's a chance they were bluffing, but you said they looked scared." I hummed in confirmation; the patrons had looked like they'd seen a ghost the minute that mummified farmer had mentioned the farm. "My reckoning is that the forest is being used as a defence. It would explain the name, and explain why so many agents and mercenaries have failed." I nodded even though she couldn't see me.

"This person is using their knowledge of the land to their advantage." I murmured it to myself as much as to Diana, but she responded anyway.

"Exactly. 47, there's still no word on the identity of your target. Cicada have adjusted their parameters though." I began folding the map away, happy with my chosen route.

"How so?" I didn't like the sound of that, Cicada were slippery and I didn't trust them in any way.

"They want you to eliminate _anyone_ that isn't the child." I paused, staring out the windscreen at the moody grey sky.

"My price goes up." Diana chuckled.

"I already told them that. They were happy to oblige. They must really want this kid." I didn't respond, watching the clouds start to part, a weak ray of sunshine pushing through. The child was definitely a changeling, I was certain. There would be no other reason for an organisation like Cicada to go after them otherwise. I wondered absentmindedly how our guy had managed to steal it, that would have taken some doing. Diana continued her briefing cutting through my thoughts. "Once you have the child I'll contact you with the drop off point. I won't be able to monitor you 47 as I am only just managing to call you now. Just…be careful okay?" I sighed in exasperation at her concern.

"I will. Have I ever failed before." Her voice was softer as she answered me, a smile evident in her tone.

"No, I don't expect you will this time. Just remember, a lot of men disappeared trying to complete this contract, try not to become one of them. Happy hunting." The phone went dead as she disconnected the call. I finished folding away the map and started the car. I had decided to go around the forest, avoiding the obvious road leading to the farm. I would come in from the east, on a small dirt lane I had seen traced on the land around it. Hopefully this would keep my infiltration hidden, and I could scout the forest without fear of an ambush.

I was just about to pull away from the side of the road when a rickety, old land rover came roaring down towards the town. It was coming from the direction of the farm, and I scanned the occupant curiously, wondering if they were my target. A man with curly grey hair and an unkempt beard stared back at me. There was no sign of a child or any weapons in the car with him and I assumed he had just happened to drive from that direction.

But as he passed and I pulled onto the road heading the opposite way, I could have sworn his intelligent hazel eyes had widened ever so slightly at the sight of my face. I shook the paranoia off, I had never seen him before and there was no way he had seen me. Otherwise he wouldn't still be driving around. I accelerated, happy to leave that kooky town in my rear view mirror, heading towards the farm and the apparently hungry woods.

…

The sign read 'Keep Out' but I had never been one to listen to such things. I shut the door of the Audi with a muted thunk, checking my silenced pistol was holstered securely beneath my suit jacket. The trees didn't look out of the ordinary, I squinted into the dense forest, the darkness between the trees was all consuming. I adjusted my senses; something told me I was going to need my wits about me in this place.

I glanced back at the vehicle I had parked on the track, there was little I could do to conceal it in this barren shrub land, all I could hope was that no one came to this particular spot before I had dealt with my contract. I vaulted easily over the barbed wire fence, avoiding the painful barbs at the top of it. Landing silently on the other side, I assessed my surroundings. The undergrowth was chest height here, and there were no clear paths through the brush. I strained my hearing just in case there was anyone lurking but I heard no sign of movement in the forest. Just the insistent twittering of birds in the canopy accompanied me, as I waded into the trees.

I felt oddly naked without my earpiece in, it had been a regular part of my contracts for years now and I had grown accustomed to voice in my head offering helpful advice, or in the case of Perry, sarcastic criticism. Now my head was unusually quiet, in some ways I liked the independence of it, I was more than capable without the assistance of a handler. On the counter side however, it left room for other voices to fill the silent void. I kept scanning the undergrowth and trees for signs of traps or watching eyes. Looking down I paused and carefully stepped over a waiting bear trap, its jagged teeth poking out above the detritus on the forest floor. Hungry woods indeed, I thought ruefully, it even had teeth to prove it.

I continued walking forward, carefully placing my feet so they didn't spring any traps that I now knew existed. I advanced further into the gloom, the car and the track disappearing quickly behind me. Deviating from my path to walk round a trip wire positioned at foot level, I followed the wire to its source and saw it was attached to boulder suspended in the canopy above me. Raising an eyebrow at the elaborate death trap I kept walking. The sooner I was out of this forest of fun the better.

I could see how this person had managed to catch so many professionals off guard, it wasn't everyday I had to negotiate a wilderness of cleverly designed and hidden inventions intent on killing me. I stopped again to examine a particularly nasty example; my way was suddenly blocked by a barrier made of razor wire, strung up in criss-crosses between the trees. It was camouflaged with leaves and smeared in dirt to stop the light glinting off the viscous barbs. Any one running or walking without paying enough attention would collide with it and become impaled on the wall of wire. It was a shame really, if I hadn't been sent to kill this person, I would have suggested recruiting them to Diana.

A sudden cacophony of bleating reached me and I stopped, frowning in confusion as a small flock of sheep came charging through the trees towards me. The animals were in a state of panic, clearly running from something. I stood still as stone, watching them as they raced onwards. Eventually they caught sight of me, their bleating increasing in volume as they react to my sudden appearance. Immediately they changed direction, dashing off into the undergrowth to my right. I sensed I was close to the edge of the trees now, and the animals' presence pointed to someone being nearby. Lowering into a crouch, I moved swiftly through the forest until finally they ended abruptly.

I stared out at the large, open field ahead of me. There was no cover, except for a small group of trees at the top of a rise. There was no sign of anyone in the field, the bracken and heather waving in the mountain breeze. The sound of a twig breaking behind me made my head whip round, but there was nothing in amongst the darkness as far as I could see. Frowning, I turned back to look at the field, something wasn't right. My eyes zeroed in on the distant woodland, a movement catching my attention. I squinted, making out the small, distinct shadow of a child running into the trees. There was another sound behind me, I put it down to the sheep moving in the undergrowth, one of my objectives was ahead of me and I intended to end this as quickly as possible.

Straightening up, I drew my pistol. I wasn't to harm the child, but it could well be a trap and I wanted to be running into it prepared. I began running up the incline, my legs easily striding over the open field, free of the tangle of bushes. I ate up the ground, reaching the small woodland in a matter of seconds, but the child had already vanished into the shelter of the trees. I glanced behind, checking I wasn't being followed but the edge of the forest was still and quiet. I began walking slowly into the sparse trunks; it was a world away from the deathly forest I had just left. The silver birch trees that made up the woodland were spaced far apart and there was little to no undergrowth here. The weak sunshine that had now beaten the clouds, filtered through the thin canopy easily.

I found the child in the centre of the woodland; it was a small girl, around five or six years old from my guess. Her brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her pale blue eyes were fixed on me, wide in terror. A low, ominous growling made me switch my gaze to the brown and grey sheepdog by her side. The girl was gripping onto the animal's collar as it bared its teeth at me in a threatening grimace.

I hid my pistol behind my back and held my free hand up in a sign of friendship. The girl's unnerving eyes followed my hand, distrust clear on her face. "Who are you?" She spoke in a clear voice, stronger than I expected from one who looked so frightened, and with a painfully familiar accent.

"I'm not going to hurt you." I spoke in a quiet voice, trying to keep my tone soft. I needed to persuade this girl to come with me, but judging by her well-kept appearance I had a feeling she wasn't exactly going to run to my car willingly. I took a tentative step forwards, the dog responded by lowering into a defensive crouch, his rumbling growl turning into a loud snarl. I froze, keeping my eyes on the aggressive beast. Clearly he wasn't going to give her to me without a fight. I quietly cocked my pistol behind my back. If it came to it, the dog was an obstacle I would have to deal with.

"You shouldn't be here. Ma will get angry." The girl's voice had a superior edge to it. I was impressed by the tiny child's fearlessness. I took a proper look at her while we were locked in this stalemate; she didn't look like a changeling. There was a fire in her cold, blue eyes that wasn't present in the microchip controlled assassins I knew. She looked like an ordinary little girl, but I couldn't help feeling there was something awfully familiar about her face. Like I had seen it a hundred times before, but in a different light.

"Who's your mother?" I was attempting to keep her talking, lull her into accepting my presence. Once she was relaxed I could shoot the dog and grab her quickly before she became too distressed. I knew carrying a small child wasn't going to be a problem for me, changeling or not.

"She's the one who lives here." The answer sounded like the sort of response an unintelligent child would say, but there was something about the way she said it that made me think she was being deliberately evasive. I shook off the ridiculous thought and took another step forward. The sheepdog moved itself between the girl, and me its eyes burning into me. You could tell when an animal was bluffing, and I knew this beast meant business. I would have to fire if I wanted to get closer, that or risk having this brown and grey throw rug dangling from my throat.

"Where is your mother now? I'd really like to talk to her." The girl tilted her head slightly, at first I thought she hadn't understood me, then I noticed her eye line had changed from me to something positioned just behind me.

"She's here." It took me a second to register the voice was deeper than the girl's had been, and the fact her mouth hadn't moved when she spoke. My chest responded before I did, the familiar pain flaring harshly as my brain spat out another hallucination at the worst possible time. I moved my head to look at the ghost stood behind me, something in the very back of my mind wondered how the child could see her too, as she was still staring at the apparition of Perry I was now seeing.

She looked different from the other times, and I grew angry with my body for throwing another curve ball at me, by not signalling its approach with the usual itch. Her face was contorted in a mask of fury, her long brown hair longer than I remembered, blowing in the breeze. There was a scar above her left eye that I had never seen before too, and she was holding a bow and arrow, the bowstring pulled taunt in her hand, the arrow tip pointed at my face.

"Leave her." Her voice was menacing, a harder edge to it than usual. The Perry from my nightmares usually spoke in a light, conversational tone, but this hallucination was angry. Her brown eyes burned into me, a darkness in them I couldn't place. I rubbed my free hand over my face, the pain distracting me more than her at the moment.

"Not now. I need to finish this." I turned away from the ghost, resolving to grab the girl and hopefully expel this realer than usual haunting. Before I could raise my gun to silence the now furious dog, I felt the sharp stab of the arrow tip pressing into my back. The new pain jolted through me like an electric shock, and I spun instantly on the spot to face her properly. The feeling of the arrow had been far too real to be in my mind. She stayed in place, pushing the arrow into my chest now instead, her lip curling at my shocked, disbelieving expression.

"Morgan?" My voice didn't sound like my own. It was small and unsure; I saw her expression falter at the despairing tone. It was gone as soon as it came however, she pushed on my chest with the arrow, I felt it draw blood beneath my shirt.

"Get…out." She hissed the words through tightly gritted teeth. There was no hint of the affection or friendship I had been accustomed to from her. This miraculously resurrected version of Perry was changed, hardened, the air of a killer evident about her. I had no doubt if I didn't play my cards right, she would lodge that arrow deep into my chest.

"You're alive. How?" As I looked at her very real, very angry face the pain began to wash away. But instead of the usual numbness that would normally take its place, there was a lightness, a sense of elation I hadn't felt before. I suddenly forgot where I was, the girl and the dog behind me fading out until there was only me and her. I felt my mouth stretch up into a genuine smile at the sight of my old handler alive and well, and I saw her expression change in response. The anger melted away into surprised confusion, the arrow slipping down until it pointed at the floor. She didn't answer my question, but her eyes began flicking over my face, unsure what to do now. I shook my head, the smile still fixed in place, the longest it had stayed there. "You're alive, that all that matters." And I threw my gun down beside me and held my hands up in a sigh of surrender.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"What are you doing?" The confusion in Peregrine's voice made the smile drop from my face finally. Her gaze flicked from my discarded pistol to me, the pain I thought I had finally escaped nudging me slightly at the look in her eyes, like I was a stranger to her. The arrow snapped back up to aim at my head. "I think you should leave."

I stared at her furious expression for a moment, unsure what to do. I had been sent here to do a job and leaving now, with nothing to show for it didn't seem like the best option. However, I wasn't going to just kill Perry, I had only just got her back. She didn't move, her weapon still hovering dangerously close to my face. Eventually I nodded. "My car is on the edge of the forest." Perry eyes narrowed to slits as she assessed me, the mistrust was evident but I was uncertain how to allay her fears of me.

"I know. Come with me." She gestured for me to move with the point of her arrow, the tense aggression still emanating from her in waves. I kept my hands raised and moved away from the discarded pistol, knowing if I tried to retrieve it she would fire. Her angry demeanour slipped momentarily as she watched me skirt around her, annoyance taking its place. "Put your bloody hands down 47." Slowly I obliged, keeping a careful watch on the aggravated Perry. She turned her attention to the girl behind me as the child made as if to follow us.

"No Seren, stay here with Gelert please." The child's face changed from suspicious fear to a stubborn scowl.

"The man can go into the forest with you, but I can't?" I sensed a continuing argument between the two of them, a feeling that was proven correct as Peregrine shook her head forcefully at the little girl, her tone firm.

"Not now Seren. Stay…here, understand?" I watched curiously as the child's scowl deepened and she folded her arms, standing next to her fierce bodyguard. The beast's hackles were still raised, its eyes boring into me. I looked away as Perry moved to face me again, I caught a deep sadness in her eyes I couldn't place. My muscles tensed automatically as I felt the sharp tip of the arrow pressing into my spine once more. "Move." She prodded me as if to emphasise her point, and I began walking back the way I had come.

We left the cover of the thin silver birch trees and started moving down the hill towards the dark line of the forest. Peregrine kept me in front of her, easily keeping pace with my long striding walk. She was definitely more agile than I remembered her being, and stealthy. I hadn't been aware of her sneaking up on me at all; either she was better or I was losing my touch. I preferred to think it was the former.

We marched on in silence, I wasn't sure of what I would do once in the cover of the trees ahead. I couldn't just walk out of here with nothing, I had a reputation and I wasn't going to start damaging that reputation now, especially as Cicada were the clients. However, the thought of actually killing Perry was as sickening now as it had been all those years ago, when I was faced with the option in Italy. No, killing her was out of the question, but so was leaving. As I was thinking through my options we reached the trees and I felt Perry's gait slow; she was unsure too, I could sense it. Before I took a step into the darkness filled with death traps, I turned and faced my assailant.

"What are you doing here Peregrine?" She glared at me, her hostility seeming to grow at the sound of her codename. I didn't back down, I wanted answers and I was certain I wouldn't be getting them once she herded me into these woods. "Who's the girl?" I added for good measure, if I was going to get answers I wanted all of them.

Her eyes widened initially at the unexpected interrogation, then her lip curled in anger as she jabbed the arrow at me again. "It's Morgan. And I don't think I need to tell you, given your reasons for being here." I blinked in confusion at her.

"What do you mean?" It felt like there was a deep hatred for me where there had been a misplaced affection before. I was struggling to see why Perry, or Morgan as she insisted I call her now, was treating me like a snake that had just wondered into her nest. She had obviously made every effort to distance herself from her past life, dismissing her codename and hiding for years without attempting to contact Diana or me. But I had helped her in her crusade against the agency; even after all my loyalty to them I thought I had proven mine to her ten fold. Evidently she didn't feel the same.

"You're here to kill me aren't you?" Her voice was uncertain for a moment, the sadness returning to her eyes before she shook it off and flashed a deathly stare at me. "If you're going to do it make it quick, I haven't got all day." Her tone was biting, and her words hit me in the chest as if she had punched me with them. Suddenly her mood towards me started to make sense. She still believed I was there to kill her; even with my gun discarded willingly and my submission at letting her push me back down the hill she still thought I intended to eliminate her.

I felt my blank expression fade to reveal a confused sadness, Morgan looked surprised at my sudden change in emotion. Something she hadn't been used to when she knew me. "You still think I'm going to kill you? I'm not…I didn't know you were here." My sincerity seemed to shake her defensive shell and she suddenly looked a lot more like the girl I had known five years previous.

"Cicada didn't tell you who the target was?" There was disbelief in her voice, as her eyes searched my face for any sign of deception. I shook my head, letting all the years of torment show, eager for her to trust me just a little again.

"No. I thought you were dead Morgan." She let her bow and arrow drop then, releasing the tension in the bowstring and also the atmosphere. She rubbed her hand over her face, giving a humourless snort.

"Well, as you can see I'm not, much to Cicada's annoyance I'm sure." My mouth twitched at her remark, a shadow of a smile flitted across her face briefly before she looked at me sadly. An awkward silence grew between us, and I glanced at the dark forest before us. "So…what do we do now?" The anger that had been there before had slowly disappeared, what was left was an uneasy tension. I knew I couldn't just walk away, Diana would ask questions and I intended to provide answers. So far I had nothing. I turned back to stare at Morgan, my eyes locking with hers.

"I can't leave without some sort of explanation. I think you owe me that much." My voice was firm but Morgan frowned at my forceful request.

"I owe you nothing." She spat the words at me, her anger building once more. I raised an eyebrow at her defiance, at this I would not budge. We had been partners and she had left me thinking I had let her die for five years; the least she could do was explain what had happened. We stare at each other, unblinking, for several minute, each of us unwilling to back down first. Eventually a dog barked in the distance and Morgan let out a long, loud sigh. She looked down at her bow and arrow, then slung the bow decisively over her back and placed the arrow in a quiver attached to her hip. "I must be fucking crazy." She muttered to herself before finally looking back up at me, a serious, but resigned expression on her face. "Fine. I need to get something first, you walk ahead."

She gestured with her hand for me to keep walking into the forest, I took her unarmed state as a sign that she was going to let me stay so turned on my heel and began walking into the dense undergrowth. We trudged through the oppressive forest, single file, Morgan issuing directions every now and then. After passing the fifth fiendishly designed trap I spoke up, my voice loud in the pressing quiet of the forest.

"Why did you bring me back here if you thought I was going to kill you? Kind of playing into my hands weren't you?" Morgan didn't reply straight away, the sound of our feet moving through the undergrowth drowning out everything else. I was just about to turn to see if she had heard me when she replied in a menacing voice.

"I'd have as good a chance as you in here. I know this forest, you don't." My mouth stretched up into a half smile. Her confident answer had provided me with the evidence I wanted, she had made these traps and was responsible for the death of all those assassins. I had to admit, I was a little bit impressed if not a little saddened by her transformation. She had come a long way from the girl who could barely fire a gun.

"You were going to try and kill me?" I asked, sceptically. I heard her huff in annoyance at my dismissive tone.

"Still might if you piss me off. And yes…I was going to give it my best shot." My smile dropped as the reality of her words sank in; she had been willing to fight for her life, even against me. It gave me a glimpse into her world now, one where survival was everything. "It would have been better anyway. I didn't want Seren seeing you execute me." Her voice had lost its confidence now; there was that sadness I had been trying to place. I realised her angry tension and sad look at the girl had been her preparing to walk to her death. The horrifying thought made me slow, I heard Morgan match my pace behind me.

"The girl. What is she?" I took a different tact this time with my inquiry, she was intriguing, not only was Cicada eager to reclaim her, but Morgan was willing to die protecting her. She really was an enigma. I heard Morgan stop behind me and I turned to look at her. She was staring at me, distrust written across her face. She gave me a rueful smile and shook her head.

"Still don't trust you enough 47, so you'll just have to keep guessing." I watched her, marvelling at her hardened spirit. I wondered what she had been through these past five years to make her like this. Morgan looked past me and gestured with her head. "Here we are." I turned back to see what she was looking at, there was nothing that I could see ahead of us. As I was scanning the surrounding trees, a large black shadow suddenly detached itself from the darkness. Instinctively I reached for my pistol and realised it wasn't there. The shadow caught sight of us and made a low rumbling noise. Only when Morgan's jubilant laugh cut through the tension did I notice the shape of the shadow was suspiciously horse like. The giant black animal sniffed as Morgan moved past me towards it, her small figure looking even smaller next to the beast.

Uncertainly I moved forward as she busied herself untethering the horse. It stared down at me as I came closer, its ears suddenly flattened against its skull and it lunged its head forward, its teeth snapping at me viciously, inches from my tie. "Tobias." Morgan chided the animal. I raised a cynical eyebrow at her.

"Tobias?" She looked at me innocently for a moment before pulling herself up into the saddle. I craned my neck trying to keep sight of her face, the unnatural position making me step back from the agitated horse. I looked at the intimidating sight before me, the horse pawed heavily at the ground.

"What?" Morgan asked, looking down at me sardonically. I gave a shrug, still eyeing the animal uncertainly.

"That's how you travel? Seems kind of dangerous." She glanced around her at the forest filled with traps, an amused expression on her face.

"Really?" She asked me, annoyance creeping into her voice. She snorted at my serious look and kicked the horse to move forward. "Shut up and stay in front." She shot at me cheekily as we moved back out of the forest, towards the hidden farm.

…

I watched as Morgan moved around the small, country kitchen, her back to me as she prepared dinner. I sat still and uncomfortable in these rural surroundings, at the oak dining table set in the middle of the kitchen. My hands were laid flat on the table top, so Morgan knew I wasn't intending to attack. She still flicked me nervous glances now and then that made my chest tighten painfully. The girl was clinging to her legs as she moved about the room, her ice blue eyes fixed on me, never moving once. I found her stare strangely unnerving, there was a heightened intelligence behind them more than I expected for a child of her age. If she was indeed a changeling she was very different to the ones I had encountered before. Her eyes shone with life, theirs always had a glassy tint to them.

After a few minutes of this the girl tugged on Morgan's jeans to get her attention. I noted the softened expression she wore when looking at the child, the gentle patience the same as any parent looking at their offspring. The girl spoke in a stage whisper, clearly not speaking to me, but her eyes remained trained on my face. "Ma, who is he?"

Morgan rolled her eyes at her and turned her head to look at me, a smirk tugging at her mouth. "Why don't you ask him yourself? He's sat right there, although I'm not sure he'll tell you." The smirk stretched across her face as the girl's expression turned worried. She glanced up at Morgan her face pleading, but Morgan shook her head and returned her attention to the cooking. Left with no choice and her curiosity obviously burning, the girl walked slowly towards the table and me. I watched her approach, making sure not to move as she reached the opposite end of the table and folded her arms on the wooden top. Her eyes narrowed as she regarded me, I mimicked her expression and she looked surprised at my response to her.

After much deliberation she eventually spoke to me, her tone suspicious. "Who are you?" Her little voice rang imperiously out, but I could hear the wobble of nervousness hidden in it. I regarded her coolly for a moment, pausing long enough for Morgan to stop what she was doing and turn to watch us both.

"A friend." My curt response triggered a confused expression on the child's face. The girl's head whipped between me and Morgan before finally settling back on me, a disbelieving look taking the confused one's place.

"Ma doesn't have any friends." She shot at me, a smug tone in her voice as she presented her evidence to me. Morgan snorted, raising her eyebrows at her.

"Gee thanks Seren. He is my friend, ok?" The girl called Seren frowned at her, then obviously feeling the sting of Morgan's rebuke glared at me. Morgan turned back before I could register the strange look she shot me.

"What's your name?" Her confidence was growing as she barked her next question at me, her blue eyes boring into mine. I thought for a moment, then not wanting to deflect annoying questions about my real name opted for my alias.

"Tobias." She became angry, clenching her tiny fists as she shook her head vigorously.

"Our horse is called Tobias, you can't have that name." My mouth twitched at her defiance, I could see Morgan's personality had rubbed off on her somewhat. I slowly clasped my hands together and raised an eyebrow at the little girl. Her scowl deepened at my condescending look, yes, definitely like Morgan.

"Well it's the one I'm using." I heard Morgan chuckle as the child stamped her foot and marched back over to her, clutching at her jeans once more. Morgan finished putting something in the old oven and knelt down to the girl's height. The girl's eyes never left my face as she grumbled to Morgan in a language I didn't understand.

"Dw i ddim yn ei hoffi e. Gwydodd enw Tobias." Morgan frowned at her, grasping her chin and turning her head to face her.

"Hey! In English madam. Now go and get washed, dinner will be ready soon." With one last withering glance at me, the girl tore at a break neck pace out of the kitchen and up the stairs. I noted the inhuman speed at which she ran and the fact that I didn't even hear a floorboard creak as she shot up the rickety wooden stairs. Morgan stared after her for a moment before straightening up with a sigh, and looking at me apologetically.

"Sorry about her, kids eh?" I fixed Morgan with an even stare; she squirmed slightly under my gaze. At least she wasn't completely changed then.

"Never pegged you for the motherly type." Her expression hardened, a wall seeming to spring up between us suddenly.

"Yeah, well I've changed a lot since you last saw me." She turned away from me, leaning on the kitchen counter and staring out of the window. She was certainly more defensive, unwilling to trust me for some reason, and unafraid to confront a trained assassin. I wondered just how much she really had changed.

"I can see that." I began tentatively, careful to keep my voice calm and even. "So…how many?" Morgan shot me a look over her shoulder, her brown eyes flashing like steel.

"Excuse me?" Her voice had dropped to a menacing growl. I could hear the edge to it, signalling I was treading on thin ice. I leant forward, my expression blank.

"How many men Morgan?" Her eyes burned into me as her expression darkened.

"You expect me to keep count?" I didn't respond, simply keeping my cool gaze levelled on her. I knew my old handler well, even though I hadn't known her for long I had spent more time in her presence than most people. I had a good idea of what kind of person she was, no matter what had changed in five years. Eventually she broke away from our staring contest, closing her eyes with a deep sigh. "Close to a hundred last time I looked." I felt the surprise register on my face. She opened her eyes and took in my unusual expression, her eyes flashed with something hard. "Eighty-nine to be exact."

"So you did keep count." I answered flatly. She wasn't a born killer, she had been forced into it. The girl I knew would have felt every death she had caused.

"Every one." Morgan confirmed in a hollow voice. In some ways it was good to know I still knew her, but in others I could see the toll this life had taken on her. She pushed off from the kitchen counter and slid the seat opposite me out from the table. Sitting down she clasped her hands on the wooden top, mimicking me. We looked at each other across the expanse of oak, scanning each other's features. It had been a long time since I had last sat in companionable silence with anyone, and I would never have predicted I would have had the luxury of doing it with Morgan again. But here we were.

The harsh pain I had grown so accustomed to was a distant memory, and it was then I realised I hadn't had a drink in hours. A sense of satisfaction washed through me, that embarrassing flaw in my character had been a constant burr in my side for five years. Still I couldn't help feeling irritated that the cause and cure sat opposite me, was as much a weakness as the drink itself.

"You've gained quite the reputation I must say. Even that backward town of yours was warning me about this place." Morgan winced at my comment; blatantly a reputation was not what she was after.

"Bunch of nosy fuckers." She muttered darkly, I smirked slightly at her distain for the locals. The unspoken questions grew between us like an infected wound. I wasn't one for mincing my words if I could help it, so decided to broach the sensitive subject.

"Why did you leave me? I could have helped you" Morgan's body language became defensive as she folded her arms, her expression closing off.

"I didn't know that, I still don't for that matter. Your perspective kind of changes when you've got someone relying on you." I switched my gaze upwards, staring pointedly at the ceiling and the girl upstairs that I hadn't heard at all since she had disappeared. After seeing her move there was no doubt in my mind where she was from.

"You took her from the Asylum didn't you?" I levelled my stare back on Morgan. Her brown eyes were round and fearful, it was the first time I had seen proper fear in them since seeing her alive again.

"I couldn't just leave her 47." I let out a long, exasperated sigh. I had hoped I had been wrong about the girl, but Morgan's admission made the truth a harsh reality. Crystallising into a complicated inconvenience. She saw my disappointed face and her fearfulness turned swiftly into defensive anger. "You had both decided they weren't worth saving, but she was just a baby. Plus…" She trailed off, the anger fading to sit behind her eyes, burning into me.

"Plus?" I kept my voice level and cool, not letting any of my simmering emotions into it. Morgan looked away from me, biting her lip in frustration.

"Nothing. It's just not something I could do okay." She was hiding something from me and I resolved to stay until I knew the real reason she had decided to tie herself to this changeling child.

"You should have still contacted me at least." I heard the tiniest sliver of annoyance creep into my tone as I voiced my frustration to Morgan. After all the pain she had caused me, she could have set me free at any time if she had just reached out to me. She shook her head, a sad smile on her face.

"What? And have you and Diana tell me how stupid I'd been, and how I had to get rid of her." She snorted humourlessly, "No thanks. Besides, you were fine without me." A sharp knife of pain lanced into my chest at her comment. Is that really what she thought? My brow furrowed as the ignorance of her words sank in. I saw her defiant expression crumple slightly in confusion as I stared at her sadly. Shaking my own head in dismissal.

"I wasn't fine." I swallowed, the words I had been keeping deep inside me since I had seen her again sticking stubbornly in my throat. Morgan's face softened at my sudden inability to talk, her brown eyes searching mine as if anticipating my next words. Eventually I felt the wall holding my emotions back start to give finally, a bubble of sadness rising to the surface and broke with a rush. "I missed-"

The back door flew open in a flurry of mountain air and ill-timed clarity. The rugged man I had seen driving past me earlier entered, stomping his muddy boots on the welcome matt. The small figure of the child appeared as if summoned by some unheard whistle; a streak of brown hair and colourful clothes, she barrelled into the older man and latched onto his legs.

"Uncle Rudy!" She crowed in delight, her blue eyes finding me in an instant and giving me a murderous stare. Morgan blinked as if coming out of a trance, our revealing conversation drawing to a close at the arrival of this family member. I stayed as still as stone, doing my best not to draw unnecessary attention to my presence. I was certain my unexplained appearance wouldn't be welcomed by this obvious patriarch.

"Hey there blodwyn. Whoa, careful now." The man gently grasped the girl's tight grip; the child immediately let go, leaping back as if scolded. I raised an eyebrow; clearly this changeling was still adjusting to her growing strength. The man ignored the child's chagrin and continued conversationally. "How were the sheep? Were they-" As he chatted he began taking off his coat, turning towards me as he did so. He froze at the sight of me, a look of surprised fury moulding his face into mask of deadly intent. We moved in unison, he to grasp a heavy wood axe that was resting by the door, me to stand in one fluid motion, drawing my silenced pistol as I did. The man clocked the gun as he made to brandish the weapon he had chosen, freezing as he realised his mismatched choice.

Morgan was the third party to leap into this impromptu melee, she launched herself out of the chair, emitting a harsh squeal as the wooden legs scrapped along the tiled floor. Placing herself between us she raised a hand to stop both of us from harming the other. Her head was turned towards the man, her voice urgent as she appealed to the clearly territorial aggressor.

"It's okay Uncle Rhydian. He's with me." Her words acted as a balm, the fight fading from her Uncle's eyes as he slowly, and reluctantly lowered the axe. In amongst all of this the girl stood to the side, her vivid blue eyes glinting, locked permanently on me. She didn't look scared, as a six year old watching her family fight a strange man should, she looked tensed as if prepared to leap in at a moments notice. I noted how her family didn't seem to have seen her unusual stance, but thought it best not to point it out in the current climate.

"You! I saw you in town earlier." My gaze flicked back to the man as I registered he was addressing me in a thick accent, similar to Morgan's. I holstered my pistol, the man's hazel eyes following the movement like a bird of prey watching a mouse. After waiting for me to respond he gave up, his head snapping sideways to fix Morgan with his bird like stare. "What's he doing here Morgan?"

Sensing the charged atmosphere had dispersed she let her arms fall to her sides, her demeanour changing to that of a scolded child as she scrabbled for an answer. "He's an old work acquaintance. He came to see how I was." Unsurprisingly her weak story didn't sit well with the old man, and he intensified his sharp gaze on her. I watched with interest as the street-wise, battle hardened ex-assassin handler squirmed uncomfortably under this old farmer's disbelieving stare.

"You expect me to believe that tripe? Five years we haven't had a visitor because of your rules, and now you've just let this guy in here who looks like he's stepped straight out of Reservoir Dogs." Morgan's nervous unease prickled into irritation as she glowered at her Uncle.

"It's fine, trust me." The man grunted, his frown not lifting. Still, he turned away from me and went to see to the child stood to one side.

"Okay, have it your way. But it would have been nice to get the memo that you're inviting them round to dinner instead of…disposing of them." He chose his word carefully as the small girl was staring up at him with saucer round eyes. I got the meaning loud and clear however, I looked like the men that had tried to come here before, and he knew it.

With the Uncle disarmed I sank back into the seat I had left previously, resuming my neutral position, arms flat on the table. Morgan gave me an apologetic look as she moved back over to the oven, the smell of cooking meat flooding the kitchen as she opened the door. The man gave the girl an affectionate pat on the head and moved over to the seat furthest from me. I sat still and silent as the small family chatted amongst themselves as if I wasn't there. It felt like I was looking in through the window rather than sat in the middle of them.

Morgan served the dinner she had been preparing, a hunk of meat she said was venison and roasted vegetables. She lingered a little longer placing my plate in front of me, I saw the Uncle's expression turn deadly at the acknowledgment of my presence. The little girl however had picked up the game of 'ignore the strange man' remarkably well and wittered on as if nothing was amiss anymore. The normality of it all made me itch, not the same itch I had had for the past five years, another more common itch. Telling me this was far too comfortable and staying would be a bad idea. I pushed the feeling back as I watched the family portrait play out in front of me, Morgan the only one paying me any attention every now and then.

The conversation eventually turned to the subject of sheep, the old man's tone turning from muted interest to business like in an instant. "So did you get the East herd in?" Morgan had nearly finished her dinner, but she put her fork down slowly.

"Yes and no." The Uncle's mood soured quickly at her dismissive tone.

"What happened?" Suddenly Morgan locked eyes with me, she wasn't addressing me but it was as if she was taking strength in my steady gaze as she pressed on with the difficult discussion.

"Well, one fell down the mountain and twelve ran into the forest." Even the girl had stopped eating to watch the tense exchange.

"Did you get them back?" He spoke in a slow, deliberate voice as if any answer other than yes was the wrong one. Morgan grimaced, her eyes still on me.

"No. I didn't." The man slammed down his fork making two of the other three people round the table jump. I could see my unwanted company was completely forgotten now, his niece the new target for his sullen mood.

"Great, Morgan. Just great. They're probably dead by now, trapped in one of your infernal contraptions." Morgan's embarrassment turned to annoyance.

"I'll look for them tomorrow." The man stood up, his half eaten dinner discarded in front of him.

"You'd better, and I expect to see all twelve returned. We can't afford to lose stock this close to Autumn." He shot a cursory venomous look my way before stalking out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Morgan sighed and began slowly clearing the plates.

"Go on cariad. I'll be up in a minute." The child looked at her, a worried expression on her face.

"Will Uncle Rudy read to me?" Morgan smiled sadly at the girl, and bent down to deliver a kiss to her forehead. The gesture was sweet and I felt awkward suddenly, as if I had been privy to a secret moment between them.

"I don't think he's in the mood tonight Seren. Go on up and I'll read." The girl nodded demurely and slunk up the stairs after the Uncle. She stared back at me once over her shoulder before disappearing from view, her blue eyes no longer hostile, merely curious.

Morgan continued her clean up as I sat still, unsure what to do. Eventually she turned to me and gave me a familiar half smile. "There's a spare room upstairs, third door on the left. You're welcome to use it, I imagine it'll be comfier than sitting in that chair all night." Her easy acceptance at me staying stirred something inside of me. But instead of searching round for what it was I stood quietly and returned her half smile.

"Thank you." She nodded and made to walk upstairs.

"You'd better bring that car of yours round tomorrow. Don't want it sitting on the outside for someone to see." With that she left me alone in the kitchen as she padded up the stairs. I looked around me, the silence pressing in on me. What was I doing? I couldn't stay here. I had a contract. One that I wasn't intending to fulfil, I reminded myself ruefully. I was torn between the need to leave and move on from this desolate, isolated place, and the desire to stay in my former partner's company a little longer. If not just to find out what had driven her away from me, and why Cicada was so determined to get back the little girl.

Yes, I resolved, I would stay to gather intel and report back to Diana when I had found something. But even as I ascended the creaking wooden stairs to my assigned room, I knew deep down the reason for staying was a lot more complicated than that.


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: Apologies for the wait on this one, I have a feeling this story is going to take me a tad longer than the previous ones so please be patient. As always read and review, and of course enjoy! :)**

 **I have introduced** **another character with a Welsh name, pronunciation below.**

 **Llyr - Th-leer**

Chapter 6

Even the dawn was grey here. I stood in the murky yard, staring at the dim light fighting its way through the cloud on the horizon. I had slept soundly and without dreams for the first time in a long time, and had crept downstairs when I had woken after my normal four hours of rest. The quiet was absolute outside, there was the distant bleating cries of the sheep in the fields but otherwise there was nothing. No cars, no sirens, no human activity of any kind. It was highly unnerving.

The morning air was cold and crisp, I could feel it brushing loosely against my skin beneath my shirt. I felt overdressed for my current surroundings, but had little options available to me when I hadn't planned on vacationing on a Welsh farm at any point in my life. And yet here I was, surprising myself again. I noted how Morgan had only been back in my life for a little under 24 hours, and she was already bringing out the worst in me. I could feel her beginning to pull me in, like a particularly brilliant, and annoying sun.

I began to think over my foolish decision in the lonely chill of the farmyard. Diana would be expecting a field report soon, likely claiming I had achieved my objective and was on my way to drop off the child. I had no idea what I was going to say to my handler, she was going to be as surprised about Morgan's current state as I had been. There was even the possibility she would assume I had finally cracked and lost my mind, believing my visions to be real. I had to admit as I had awoken this morning, I had had to remind myself that I was indeed living in the real world and not some permanent delusion I had concocted.

I was stood staring into the distance for a few minutes before I became aware of movement coming from the house behind me. I turned my head to glance over my shoulder as the old man called Rhydian exited the back door, stumping his feet against the cold. He clocked me and his eyes hardened, his mouth stretching into a thin line as he shoved his weathered hands deep into his coat pockets. I returned my gaze languidly to the horizon and listened as the old man approached me, his footsteps echoing on the tarmac. I expected him to go about his business, paying the same disregard to me as he had last night at the dinner table after our heated introduction. Alarmingly my prediction was wrong, as he came to stand beside me, staring at the growing streak of burnished orange crowning the hills.

"Early riser I see." If his close presence had been enough to surprise me, his gruff conversational tone nearly floored me. I gave him a sideways look, assessing his sudden desire to talk to me, sensing a motive. He stared stubbornly ahead, his stance uncomfortable.

"I don't sleep much." Rhydian jumped slightly at the sound of my voice, finally glancing at me with those pin sharp hazel eyes. He scanned me up and down, taking in my out of place attire next to his grubby coat and trousers, and grunted sullenly.

"Same." Done with his appraisal of me he turned back to look at the hills, I followed suit, keeping him in my peripheral. "Curse of being a farmer I suppose. Last one to bed and first one up." His voice had a pleasant lyrical quality to it, a rich roughness that gave his words wisdom and weight. A world apart from the slurred, rushed tones of the local bar clientele I had encountered. It was closer to Morgan's strange lilt, that singsong accent she put on the end of her words. I felt myself relaxing at the old man's tone as he continued our casual discussion. "What's your excuse?"

Even though he didn't turn to look at me I felt his attention boring into the side of my face. Like he was weighing up what to make of me based on my answers. I decided to keep my guard up and make my responses vague. "I don't have time for sleep." I replied simply. I felt the man next to me digest my answer, the silence stretched between us like a tight rubber band.

Eventually he spoke again, his voice still artificially light. "There are good few things you should make time for, sleep in my opinion is one of them." It was a game of chess; he moved one space and I countered with a deflecting answer. I knew he was digging for something, but I was unclear what it was he wanted to uncover.

"I wouldn't know much about making time for things I'm afraid. My profession doesn't really afford me the luxury of time." I hoped my answer would steer him towards thinking I was indeed just a businessman from the city, unwilling to stand still for a moment. Not a trained killer living under his slowly leaking roof. I felt him move from one foot to the other next to me, my cryptic answer provoking a change in the atmosphere. His body vibrating like a tuning fork about to emit a sound as he planned his next move.

"Yeah, well I don't seem to know a lot about most things." I could feel the mood shift as he dropped the friendly tone in his voice. "But I'll tell you some of the things I do know." He turned sideways to face me his expression impassable and knife sharp. I let my head swivel to stare at him coolly, my expression a carefully placed blank mask as always. The old man wasn't perturbed however, he continued in a slow deliberate monotone. "I know my farm has been turned into a slaughterhouse for people like you, I know my niece loves her daughter and would do anything to keep her safe. I know she hasn't let anyone near this house in five years, and has never talked about who the father is." He took a step towards me, drawing himself up so his eyes lanced into mine. "I know that girl looks nothing like my niece, but she sure as fuck looks like you."

I felt my blood turn icy as his words landed like rocks in a still pool. Those eyes had been hauntingly familiar, but I was always fastidious about leaving my DNA anywhere. How would they have got it? It was impossible. Rhydian was almost toe-to-toe with me now.

"I don't know what happened between you, it isn't my business to pry into things like that, but there is definitely a history there, I'm not blind." He'd got the wrong end of the stick, I thought sourly. I wasn't capable of that kind of relationship, the girl may be from me but not in the natural sense. She was something other, something highly _un_ natural. Like me. Still the Uncle was pressing on with his 'threatening Father' speech. "I know what you are boy, I've seen enough corpses in my woods to recognise one of you. Morgan seems to trust you, but I don't." His voice was a gruff growl now. "I've got my eye on you, you hear? If you hurt my girls in any way, I'll make you pay."

We stared at each other, unblinking for a moment, each trying to suss the other one out. I didn't fear his threat; I had faced crueller, more powerful men than him, but I marked it, like a page in a book. This place had more than one guard dog.

We both broke away from our exchange as the back door opened with a creak and a small, brown haired head poked out, large blue eyes watching us. A larger figure appeared behind her as Morgan pulled on a pair of boots and stood in the doorway. "Come on then. In or out?" The girl glanced up behind her, before hopping out of the house into the yard. She walked in an over exaggerated manner towards Rhydian, giving me an obviously wide birth her eyes flicking to me periodically to check I hadn't moved unexpectedly.

"Bore da Uncle Rudy." I felt my brow furrow at the strange language again. It was frustrating not to know exactly what was being said all the time, it was an unusual feeling for me.

"Morning to you too Seren." The man smiled fondly down at the child as he stroked her hair. Morgan shut the door behind her with a bang and walked slowly over to join the throng now massing in the middle of the farm. She looked at me, her mouth twitching with the promise of a smile, her Uncle glanced up from the girl and gave her a cool look; their argument from last night not forgotten. "Morgan." He greeted her curtly. She nodded and averted her gaze from her angry Uncle, looking back at me.

"Sleep well?" She asked, an undertone of mockery in her voice. She had always had a habit of criticising my disregard for normal bodily needs. I raised my eyebrow so only she could see the movement, and she held back a smirk. The grouchy man next to us grumbled something under his breath and turned away, heading towards a small wooden shed attached to the side of the house.

"Come on Seren." He growled, the small girl trotting obediently at his heels. I stood staring down at Morgan quietly, she held my gaze for a moment before clearing her throat and looking at the floor. The Uncle re-emerged from the shed and barked over, "Go and find those sheep Morgan." She rolled her eyes at me, not brave enough to do it to the old man's face I noticed. "And take our guest with you." I looked sharply up at the retreating back of the Uncle, the girl glancing over her shoulder at me.

Morgan brought my attention back to her with a loud sigh; she gave me a small grin, her eyes flicking up and down my body. "I don't think you're really dressed for herding sheep. Let's see if I can find you some different clothes." With her amused expression still fixed on her face, she disappeared back inside the farmhouse. I watched as the man and child dragged hay bales from a cavernous barn, the girl managing to lift an entire bale easily in her arms. She caught me watching and froze to stare at me unashamedly. After the Uncle's claim it was hard not to see the resemblance. I shook my head and turned away as the impossible ghost of my childhood resumed her work.

…

The flannel shirt felt itchy against my skin as I gripped onto the hard seat of the quad bike. Morgan had managed to root out some old clothes that she claimed belonged to her Father. I had registered the brief stab of grief behind her eyes as she handed me the worn and comfy shirt and trousers. One of the few emotions I was unhappily familiar with. I felt my muscles tightened as the quad went over a dip too quickly, bouncing us briefly in the air.

"Hold on to me. It'll be easier." Morgan shot over her shoulder at me, shouting above the roar of the archaic petrol engine. She had insisted on driving, and only taking one vehicle. "Don't want to scare the sheep," she had argued, "Besides I know where I'm going." After a bit of debate I had finally conceded, it was one of the things I had forgotten about being around her; she liked to argue and she rarely lost. I held onto the seat stubbornly, I would have found it easier if I were the one in control. Morgan was definitely taking the rolls and swells of the mountainous fields at a dangerous speed. After another near miss I reluctantly let go of the back of the quad and leant forward, gripping Morgan's waist. She glanced at me, and I wondered if she was driving like this on purpose. Then I remembered her mood towards me wasn't the same as before, I imagined her ill placed affection for me was long gone. Still I was sure I saw the shadow of red pooling in her cheeks as I moved my head closer to hers.

The landscape stretched out to either side of us, the mountains forming a protective ring around the farmland. I could see why Morgan had chosen this place to hide; it was a natural fortress, augmented by her forest of tricks of course. I glanced down at the sheepdog keeping pace with Morgan's kamikaze driving, its tongue was lolling out of its mouth all ferociousness gone now its master was willingly turning her back to me. I felt Morgan finally slow the quad bike, her attention focused on scanning the forest line that had appeared on our left. Looking around I could see we had gone past the rise with the small woodland I had confronted the girl in yesterday.

She brought the quad to a stop and I let go of her, a tingly sensation remaining in my palms like I was still connected to her with a live wire. I rubbed my hands together trying to dispel the confusing feeling, dismounting the quad bike and walking over to Morgan who was now staring into the blackness of the forest.

"That was…interesting." I quipped at her in a biting tone. She shot an un-amused look at me, her mouth pulled in a thin line.

"Would you have preferred I brought the horse?" She retorted. I blinked at her slowly before turning my attention to the forest. "They ran in this direction when you spooked them. I just hope there's some left alive." She stared at me for a moment, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. The old Perry twinkling in her eyes, as she took in my appearance. "Suits you, that look."

I stare back at her blankly, raising one eyebrow sardonically. "Shall we?" I offered in a cool voice, Morgan snorted and without another word swung on her heels and moved into the forest. Following behind I checked the position of my pistol, holstered awkwardly on top of the red checked flannel shirt. The dog trotted obediently at Morgan's heels, it reminded me of the girl following the old man earlier. We wound our way through the dense undergrowth once more, the thick trees trunks hemming us in on all sides. I could see how this forest with all its traps could be considered nightmarish; there was an eeriness to the place like unseen eyes were watching.

We were silent as we walked and I noticed that Morgan seemed comfortable with me walking behind. A swell of hope bloomed in my chest at the thought that things could be as they were, I was sick of things changing so much in this world. I watched with fascination at the way she moved, the alertness in her movements as she scanned the forest for the sheep. Every now and then she would stop and examine a broken twig, a tuft of white wool caught on a thorn. She had become an accomplished tracker, the hope I felt started to shrivel as the skilled hunter in front of me refused to match up with the clumsy, well-meaning girl I had known.

"Shit." Her harsh curse dragged me back to the task at hand. Morgan had come to a stop, the dog sat patiently by her side, its eyes locked onto a dirty white shape half hidden in the undergrowth. I walked to stand next to her, analysing the dead sheep; its head caught in a wire noose, livid red wounds on its neck from where it had pulled against the trap. "Well that's one down." Morgan muttered bitterly. She strode over to the sheep, unhooking a machete she had strapped to her belt. With a decisive swing she severed the wire holding the sheep's head up at an odd angle, the corpse collapsed in the bushes with a solid thud.

As she was examining the body, an agonised bleating started up further ahead. Within seconds she was rushing through the trees towards the source of the noise, the dog running enthusiastically ahead of her. I followed suit, striding easily through the thick brambles. We came upon a struggling mass of wool and wild staring eyes. The sheep was stuck in one of the razor wire walls I had found yesterday, its limbs trussed up in the cruel threads, blood seeping out of a thousand open wounds. Its struggles intensified as it caught sight of us, its bleating cries becoming strangled as the razor wire dug into its throat.

"For fucks sake." Morgan swore again, rubbing an exasperated hand across her forehead. "He's going to kill me." She walked slowly towards the tortured animal, it twisted and contorted trying to get away from the approaching threat. I came closer, scanning the predicament. The wire had buried itself deep into the gashes it had forged on the beast, the amount of blood it had lost it was wonder it wasn't dead already.

"We can't save it Morgan. Best to end it." She was covering her eyes, the annoyed frustration emanating off of her. Slowly drawing my pistol, I aimed it at the sheep's head; Morgan reached out and pushed the barrel down. I shot her a startled look at her forwardness, she had barely been able to touch a gun in the past let alone push one aside as it was being aimed. She stared back, a dark look in her eyes something had shifted inside her.

"That won't work here." Her voice was quiet and level. Without another word she moved forward and grasped the sheep's ears, holding its head in place. With one quick, sure movement she drew the machete across the sheep's throat, releasing what was left of its lifeblood onto the forest floor. The sheep's cries cut out abruptly as it vocal chords were severed, the body growing still in its suspended wire prison.

I let my pistol fall to my side as I regarded Morgan who was wiping the blade clean on the nearby foliage, before hooking it back onto her belt. Her eyes flicked up to mine, the darkness still swimming in them. Even though I was aware of her bloody reputation, seeing the change in her was still jarring. She sighed as she looked at the ruined sheep. "There's still ten out there."

I nodded, holstering my pistol, a small frown creasing my forehead as we moved on from the macabre scene. "Why won't it work?" I asked suddenly, Morgan's curious comment finally piquing my interest.

"It's a new agency issue AMT hardballer isn't it? It'll have a microchip." She flashed a glance over her shoulder at me as we continued to push through the undergrowth. I didn't respond but Morgan took my silence as confirmation. "Anything chipped is disabled once you enter the forest. I installed a non-nuclear EMP generator within the forest boundary; it temporarily disables any chips within its limits. Thus rendering the device it is installed in useless." I raised both eyebrows at this admission.

"Impressive." She shrugged, dismissing my praise.

"It was necessary. I wasn't exactly the best at stealth to begin with, so needed to gain the upper hand." My mouth stretched up into an involuntary half smile. She definitely hadn't been good with stealth, I remembered being able to pick out her heavy-footed gait from a crowd of people easily. That could have been down to her distinct limp from her injured knee, but I was certain it was because she had never been taught to tread lightly. The improvement was evident now, her feet made only the slightest noise as they moved through the rustling forest foliage. The threat of death had done wonders for her awareness. The admiration turned sour in my head as I wished I had been around to help her adapt to her new life, instead of her having to trip and stumble her way to where she was now. Likely avoiding a few near death experiences along the way. I silenced the sentimental thought as we reached the edge of the forest, the bare expanse of scrubland stretched towards the horizon.

"Hmmm." Morgan was stood a few steps out of the forest, the wind picking up across the exposed landscape. It tugged hungrily at me as I stepped out of the cover of the trees and came to stand next to her.

"What is it?" I asked as she stared out at the horizon.

"Something's not right. Ten sheep shouldn't just vanish without a trace." It was true, we hadn't seen any signs of the rest of the herd since the two unfortunate sheep. Morgan knelt and called the sheepdog to her, the animal approached her quietly, but not without flicking me suspicious glances. She held out something soft and white, a tuft of sheep's wool she had taken from the woods, and offered it to the mutt to smell. It craned its neck forward, its nose quivering inches from the proffered item, before whipping around and zigzagging across the scrubland, its head buried in the heather. Morgan straightened up and watched the dog silently, her forehead furrowed in concentration.

We stood together following the dog's progress for a moment, the bitter wind roaring around us. This country really was bleak and unrefined, everything from the mountains to the prickly heather had a harsh edge to it. Morgan had adapted to fit her surroundings, becoming condensed and sharp around the edges. A survivor.

The sheepdog stopped abruptly and lifted its head, letting out a short bark summoning its master to it. Morgan obliged, jogging over to where the animal stood sentinel, it tail wagging in excitement as it presented its find to her. I approached at a more sedate pace as she bent down to pick up something concealed in the heather. "Motherfuckers." I heard her curse under her breath as I reached her.

She was glaring down at a small leather pouch, probably used to hold tobacco. I gave her a confused look, unsure how this alluded to where the sheep were located. She met my gaze, a steady anger burning behind her eyes. "Those dickheads from the neighbouring farm took our sheep." She chewed on her lip aggressively as she thought about what to do. I had to admit the perils of sheep farming seemed to be a lot more dramatic than I would have originally presumed.

"Where is this farm?" I spoke in a pointed tone. She stopped biting her lip in earnest and stared at me, a sly grin appearing on her face.

"About half an hour away." I nodded slowly and began walking in the direction of my car. I could just see the black smudge of it further along the forest line, still parked on the narrow dirt track. Morgan let out a chuckle behind me before racing to keep up with my purposeful stride. As we reached the car I felt her pace slow to a standstill and I turned to see what was wrong. There was a strange look on her face as she regarded the old black Audi, a kind of sadness tinged with nostalgia.

"Never thought I would be taking a ride in this old thing again." She walked slowly past me, and I watched her carefully as she ran a loving hand over the sleek, black body of the car. Unlocking the vehicle I opened the passenger door for her, with a small smile up at me she slid in, the memories of our European road trip overwhelming my senses suddenly. Moving to the driver's side I looked at the sheepdog sat patiently watching me. Morgan leant over to shout out at me.

"Can he come?" She grinned at me cheekily and I rolled my eyes at the waiting animal. I opened the rear door and signalled for the dog to enter, he tilted his head, uncertainty in his eyes. Morgan gave a loud whistle and the dog immediately trotted to the car and jumped in. I sighed as I shut the door behind it and got in myself. I was beginning to lose track of all the things I never thought would happen in the last 24 hours.

…

The car bumped along the rocky, uneven lane. It felt like years since I had driven on a proper road, it was as if this country was allergic to tarmac. I was amazed at how easily we had slipped into each other company again, Morgan was almost back to herself with me, her feet resting on the dashboard in front of her. She flashed me a cheeky grin as I stared pointedly at her boots making marks in my car. I could hear the dog panting in the back seat as well, clearing enjoying its spontaneous outing.

"It's just up ahead, over this hill. These dickheads have been giving us trouble for ages, I've just never had the chance to leave to sort them out." Morgan hadn't spoken since we had set off from the edge of the forest, except to give one-word directions to me. Her sudden outburst made me turn away from the wheel to glance at her. She was staring out the windscreen her cheeky demeanour gone; she was chewing her bottom lip in agitation.

"They can't be that scary. Not after all the people you've…dealt with." I struggled on the word 'killed', not because I was squeamish but because it still didn't fit with the Morgan I knew. She shot me a dark look.

"I'm not scared of them. I'm worried about the farm, about…about Seren. It's been a while since I've been this far from her." I frowned as I kept driving down the dirt track, the farm long gone from the rear view mirror.

"She's never left that farm has she?" The thought formed in my head as I pieced the evidence together, Morgan played with her coat anxiously. She was biting her lip again, a funny feeling appeared somewhere below my stomach that I hadn't felt before. I shook my head and focused on the road.

"She can't leave." Morgan's voice was small as she answered me. It didn't take me long to understand what she meant.

"She's chipped." I saw her nod, looking down at her lap sadly. Suddenly things started to fall into place, the isolation, the mistrust of outsiders, and the lack of any technology on the farm. It made sense that a former hacker would know the exact dangers of having a changeling child out in the world with a microchip planted in her brain. Another, more immediate realisation moved out of the fog of my mind. "The EMP. She can't pass through it." I knew I had spoken correctly as Morgan glanced at me, a guilty expression on her face.

"It may just knock her out, or it could fry her brain completely. I really have no idea and have never wanted to try." She fiddled with the edge of her coat again. "It's one of the reasons I suspect Cicada have never sent a changeling to do the job." I nodded, it seemed a logical conclusion to make. If Cicada were as smart as I thought they were, they would have realised Morgan would create a defence to combat the microchips she had helped disable in the first place.

I turned the wipers on as a fine drizzle started to descend on us. It looked like the brief period of dry weather had run out and the normal damp conditions had resumed. We bumped along the track until Morgan pointed to our left.

"Take this turning." I obliged, negotiating the large Audi up the narrow track. The tall hedgerows on either side scrapping the car, and obscuring my vision. The claustrophobic surroundings put me on edge, ideally I didn't want to drive onto this farm without knowing the lay of the land. Morgan could obviously feel my unease as she turned to me. "It's not far now. The farm is surrounded by fields, no places for anyone to hide." Even after all this time away and her reluctance to remember her past life, she still relayed the information to me like a handler would. I felt nostalgia wash through me at the sound of her calculating tone.

The track opened out to reveal a collection of farm buildings surrounded by a high, chain-link fence. I slowed the car to a stop in front of the imposing look gates. Silencing the engine I gave Morgan a sceptical look. "Seems a bit like overkill, these gates for a farm. You sure they're just sheep rustlers." Her mouth turned up in a grim smile.

"Like I said, these guys are dickheads." She got out and moved to stand in front of the car, staring up at the gates. I joined her, the fine drizzle was settling in her hair, creating a crown of jewel bright water droplets. I blinked, trying to clear my head and focused on the perimeter fence. It looked impressive but it was anything but secure, my eyes came to rest on the flimsy chain holding the gates together. "Got any wire cutters?" Morgan asked still assessing the gates.

I snorted as I walked towards them, feeling her eyes boring into my back. I grasped the chain firmly and tested its strength. I knew Morgan was watching, with a small smirk I ripped the chain apart in a rare display of my strength.

"Okay, forget wire cutters." I heard her exhale in surprise behind me. I pushed the gates open and turned to look at her. Her eyes were wide as she slowly walked forward. "I didn't know you could do that." I shrugged nonchalantly, staring down at her my expression careful.

"I try not to if I can help it. Draws attention." A flicker of fear past behind Morgan's eyes, but it was mixed with something else. I couldn't place it but felt that funny feeling below my stomach squeeze in response as she brushed by me and walked into the farmyard. I frowned as I followed her, against my better judgement she was affecting me once again. If I was correct in analysing my own emotions I believe I had just shown off in front of her.

The farm seemed deserted but I still took in every detail and escape route as I strode quietly behind Morgan. I noticed her doing the same as we reached the centre of the farm buildings, she stopped abruptly and tilted her head listening. I watched her as she stood still, her brown eyes scanning the area. A distant bleating drifted towards us on the wind, Morgan's head snapped to face the direction it was coming from, I turned mine slower sweeping the seemingly empty farm building as I did. It appeared to be coming from a large barn on the edge of the farm. She glanced up at me as she took her machete off her belt.

"I'm going to go check the barn, shout if you see anyone." My frown deepened as I watched her walk towards the building, the blade held firmly in one hand. I felt the familiar lead weight press down on me as I watched her retreating back. The last time I had watched her walk away like this I hadn't seen her again for five years. My hands clenched into fists as she disappeared inside the distant barn. Glancing around the yard I moved over to a low wood shed, ducking inside I positioned myself so I could still see the barn and other buildings fairly well. I let out a long sigh and wondered again what I was doing here.

The bleating suddenly intensified and I shifted my weight watching the place where Morgan had entered. A movement from the building that looked like a house caught my attention and I switched my gaze to it. A gangly, dirty looking man exited the house and started moving towards the barn. He didn't look like much but he was still heading towards Morgan so I began to move out of the wood shed. Before I could step out from my cover though another man left the house. He was older and burlier, his face sent in a grim mask of anger, but it wasn't any of these things that made me freeze, my muscles tensing automatically. It was the large double barrel shotgun he was holding in his hands.

My lip curled as I drew my silenced pistol from its holster. The men hadn't seen me and were both now heading for the barn where the sheep were currently making a racket. _Stay inside Morgan, stay inside_ , I thought silently as I quietly crept up on the men. I was a few feet behind the man with the shotgun when Morgan emerged from the barn, a ferocious look on her face.

"Oh, Llyr you wanker! What you doing with my sheep huh?" I froze simultaneously with the men, my annoyance flaring at her bold confrontation. She must see the gun, what was she doing?

"We found them Williams, wandering on the scrubland. Seems to me you didn't want them anymore, very irresponsible farming that." The gangly man Morgan had called Llyr had a whining, irritating voice. The broader man in front of me didn't say anything, just moved the shotgun to point at her. My fingernails dug into my palms as I tried to contain my protective rage.

"Finders keepers isn't a thing Llyr, you dumb fuck." I saw her adjust her grip on the machete, her eyes flicked briefly to me standing behind her aggressors. I needed to play this right; one false move and I could get her shot…again.

"The sheep in there are our property girl. I suggest you get out of here before I inform the authorities." The older man's voice was low and gruff, Morgan let out a loud, humourless laugh.

"Go on then Huw, dare you. When they get here we can have a chat about some of the shady shit you and your inbred son have been up to." The older man growled raising the gun to his eye line.

"You can talk Williams. We all know what's been going on at that farm of yours. It's about time someone gave you a taste of your own medicine." The threat was too much for me, I took one decisive stride forward and brought the butt of my pistol down on the old man's head. He let out a surprised grunt as his knees buckled and he fell forward, the shotgun tumbling from his grasp. The gangly man, Llyr turned around at the sound of his father being assaulted. His eyes widened as he saw me standing over the stunned man, my pistol aimed at his head.

"What the fuck? Who are you?" He shouted, the man, Huw groaned at my feet pushing himself off the floor with shaking hands.

"We're taking the sheep back." I spoke in a low, menacing voice. The gangly man glared at me, then put his fingers to his mouth and gave a loud, harsh whistle. Shouting erupted from the house behind us and five more men came barrelling out towards us.

"Ah shit." I heard Morgan curse under her breath as Llyr grinned nastily at us.

"Not so tough now are you big guy." He yelled at me. My eyes narrowed to slits as I stared at him, the men thundering across the yard bellowing obscenities. It only took me a few seconds to size up the men attempting to attack us, work out my odds and the likelihood of any fatalities. Huw gave another loud groan as he began to right himself, I gave Morgan a cursory glance and saw her lower her stance, gripping her machete in readiness.

With an irritated growl I hit the old man in front of me with my pistol again, knocking him out cold in an instant. Llyr let out an enraged roar behind me as I turned to face the five rough looking men. The first one was almost upon me so without hesitating I aimed my pistol at his legs and fired twice. He yelped as his legs crumpled but his momentum kept sending him forwards, he skidded to a stop on his face in front of me. Llyr had started running towards my back and I was about to turn and deal with him in a similar fashion when he let out an agonised scream and thudded to the floor too.

Glancing over my shoulder my eyes widened in shock as I saw Morgan had planted her machete in his calf, bringing him down in a shower of blood. She was detaching her blade from his leg and standing over him ready to knock him out as the second man reached me. He was brandishing a nasty looking hunting knife, which I only just managed to block with my pistol as it came towards my face. Using my free hand I delivered a bone breaking punch to his ribs, and heard some of them give way with a crack. He screamed and clutched at his side, staggering back.

"Pen pidyn!" The man shouted at me, I assumed by the tone it was an insult but was already focusing on his friend approaching me quickly with a short length of lead pipe. I ducked as he swung it at me, but the manoeuvre made me vulnerable to the man I had shot who was attempting to stand up. I noticed he had managed to grab Huw's discarded shotgun and was adjusting my movements to disarm him when the lead pipe hit me full force on the back of the head.

Bright lights burst into my vision as I staggered forward under the unexpected blow. I heard the attacker let out a triumphant laugh and was bracing myself for another assault when his laugh turned into a scream of agony. I squinted up, trying to see where my next attack would come from and saw Morgan dislodging her machete from the man's arm. She quickly used the handle to knock the bleeding man unconscious. He fell back, landing in the dirt at her feet with a resounding thud. I straightened up, a blinding pain and black edge to my vision. The remaining men stood still, staring dumbfounded at their fallen friend, and Morgan clutching the bloody machete, breathing heavily.

"Come on then, rydych chi'n criw o warthog!" Her voice had a deadly edge to it that even made me blink in apprehension. I had not intended for her to get involved with this sudden ambush, but clearly Morgan had other ideas. The brief moment of surprised silence was finally broken as the men launched themselves at Morgan and me. Shaking off the rest of my concussion I ripped the shotgun from the prone man in front of me, kicking him hard in the face. He collapsed, letting go of his weapon.

I checked the barrels of the gun, closing the chamber with a snap as I saw Morgan rolling to avoid a swing from the hunting knife. I dealt with him first, aiming the gun at the man I had punched, I waited for Morgan to be clear before firing at his feet. He looked shocked taking a step back, I used his hesitation to rush forward and slam the shotgun into his head, taking him out of the fight. Morgan glanced at me over her shoulder as she swung her machete into the leg of her next assailant, severing his hamstring. He managed to land a solid punch on the side of her head as he went down, driving her into the dirt of the yard.

I felt a surge of anger at seeing Morgan floored, her position vulnerable as she tried to regain her balance. I quickly swung the shotgun to point at the only unharmed man, he was staring at me, his expression unsure a cricket bat clutched in his hand. He dithered for a moment before dropping the bat and turning towards the open gates. I sighed a heavy sigh, dropping the shotgun I retrieved my pistol and shot the fleeing man in the back of the legs. He fell to the ground in a cloud of dirt, writing in pain.

The man that had punched Morgan was standing over her, clutching one hand to his damaged hamstring. She let out a muted grunt as he hit her again in the side, knocking the wind from her. I strode over, letting a feral growl rip through my clenched teeth, hitting him in the face with my pistol. He staggered back onto his rear, his angry expression turning swiftly to one of terror as I towered over him, my eyes burning with hate. I let my anger flow through my arms as I reached down to the cowering man and grabbed his shirt with one while unleashing a rain of blows on his face with the other. I watched coldly as some of his teeth came lose and his nose became a bloody pulp. I was vaguely aware of Morgan struggling to her feet, her eyes trained on my brutal assault of her aggressor. She didn't say anything however, and once satisfied I had given him the right amount of treatment for attacking her I slammed his head into the floor disabling him, I let him fall from grasp and released a heavy sigh.

As I straightened up I noticed I was breathing heavily, not from fatigue but from the rage still coursing through me. Emotions were a hindrance, a liability; at least that is what I had been told growing up. But I couldn't help feeling slightly drunk on the feeling of power now rushing through my veins at exacting revenge, it was better than drinking. I locked eyes with Morgan as we surveyed the scene of destruction before us. She was panting too, a nasty bruise already forming on her temple. I kept my expression blank, but after a moment of silently staring she let out a loud, giddy laugh. I frowned at the sound, juxtaposed with the violence I had just seen her display.

"Well that escalated quickly." Her words were breathless as she wiped an arm across her slick forehead.

"Are you okay?" I asked, unsure what else to say to her. She nodded, smiling at me as if she had just run a mile not fought an angry group of men with a machete.

"Yeah, let's get these sheep and split." She turned and walked, a little unsteadily, towards the barn. I followed, stepping over the unconscious bodies in my path. I paused as I came to Llyr and his father, still out cold.

"What do you want to do about these two?" I asked, pointing at the farmers. Morgan glanced over her shoulder at them.

"Leave them. Maybe they'll think twice about stealing from me after they wake up to this." She continued on into the barn, calling back to me. "Let Gelert out of the car." I stared down at the unconscious thieves for a moment, contemplating what I had just witnessed. Then I turned on my heel and headed back to the Audi, knocking out the still conscious man I had shot in the back of the leg. He let out a muffled grunt as I silenced him; shaking my head at the situation Morgan had got mein. The dog excitedly barked as I opened the door letting him out, and he raced off towards his master with no regard for the destruction in his way.

I felt a growing sense of despair as I realised that no matter how much I willed it, there was really no getting back the handler and partner I had known before. She was definitely changed.


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hello all, so I would like to thank JumpinJackFlash37 for their review, they have been following me for a while and I always appreciate honest reviews. It is the only way I can improve and I am writing this for all of you, so want you to be invested in the world I am creating. Due to some points they raised I have amended the end of chapter 6, and the story should be better for it. I take all critique seriously and will always correct honest mistakes or plot holes if pointed out, if i don't change something it is probably because I have done it on purpose for a plot point further on in the story, or I don't agree with the comment. Just thought I'd point this out as this story belongs to all of you as much to me, and reviews are the lifeblood of it. Hope you enjoy this chapter and see you soon. :)**

Chapter 7 

The days past quickly, blurring into each other. I lost track of time in this place, Morgan kept me busy on the farm our little foray outside not mentioned again. I got the impression she was trying to keep me distracted, insisting I help mend a fence, rescuing a sheep stuck in a gully, tending to the vegetable patch. This last one was a favourite of mine, I found a profound sense of peace caring for the plants in the farm garden. It took me back to simpler days in Sicily with Father Vittorio, where I hadn't been seen as a killer but as a friend and helper. In some ways being on the farm made me feel like that again. Slowly the grouchy Rhydian had started to not glare at me every time I entered a room, and Seren had come to accept my presence, even going so far as to willingly work alone with me shifting hay bales in the barn.

I watched her tiny figure lift the heavy bales like they were nothing curiously. She had kept glancing at me, watching me in return as I lifted the bales easily onto my shoulder and moved them to their destination. We had worked in silence, both keeping our eyes on each other, until finally the girl had put down the bale she was carrying and sat on it staring at me. I had continued working for a few moments before stopping in front of her, folding my arms across my chest.

"You going to help me?" I asked her dryly. She had simply stared back, the perfect copies of my eyes boring into me. Now I knew how people felt.

"You look like me." Her blunt response took me by surprise, and I blinked uncertainly at her.

"You're a little girl." I stated simply, talking in a slow voice so she understood. The child rolled her eyes in an alarmingly adult way and hopped down off the bale she was sat on, marching over to me purposefully. I froze, unsure what she was going to do. I was wearing another one of Morgan's father's checked shirts, rolled up to the elbow. The girl had lifted up her own exposed forearm and touched it to mine. The physical contact sent a jolt of ice through my nerves, her tiny warm arm felt alien on my skin.

"See." She exclaimed, as if it all made sense now. I frowned down at our touching arms, the girl made an exasperated noise clearly losing patience with me. "I have pale skin, you have pale skin." She nudged my arm with hers as if to highlight the point. I looked again and saw she was right; I had always had unusually pale skin, almost alabaster in quality, the child's was a similar tone, an ethereal glow seeming to come off it. Satisfied I now understood she took a step back and pointed to her eyes. "The same." She said in a determined voice. I nodded slowly, slightly aghast at the girl's forthrightness.

I was silent for a moment; Seren stared at me, waiting for my response. I opened my mouth about to dismiss her when Morgan appeared and stopped, looking perplexed at our apparent stand off. "Everything okay?" She asked, her gaze flicking between us nervously.

The girl nodded and resumed lifting bales as of nothing had happened. I shook my head and fixed Morgan with my stare, she raised her eyebrows quizzically but gave up when I didn't offer my side of what had happened. I wasn't entirely sure myself to be honest.

"Forty s…I mean Tobias. I need a hand with something, could you help?" She insisted on calling me by my alias in front of her family, although sometimes she slipped when taken by surprise. I nodded then noticed the child had stopped once more and was staring at us both.

"Why do you sometimes call him a number ma?" The child was definitely perceptive, too much for my liking. Morgan winced, an awkward tension springing up between us.

"Errrr…it's like a nickname Seren. Like when I sometimes call you cariad." The girl frowned, obviously not convinced. She continued looking at us, her expression serious then finally shrugged and moved to get the next hay bale. I felt Morgan relax next to me, then a tiny voice piped up again from behind the mountain of hay.

"I thought he had two names, like me." Morgan looked sharply at me, a look of confused horror on her face.

"What do you mean?" She asked, in a wavering voice as the child re-emerged a hay bale in her grasp.

"Well, I'm called Seren, but before I was called a number…like him." She gestured towards me with her head as she past. Morgan's mouth was open, the confusion fading, leaving only horror. I sensed she had lost the ability to talk, so picked up curious to see where the child was going with this conversation.

"What number?" She stopped, placing the bale down to look at her petrified mother and me.

"I was called 7, wasn't I ma?" Her voice was light and quizzical. A child simply recounting a distant memory, but Morgan had gone as pale as both of us and merely nodded dumbly. The girl smiled and resumed working, humming a nonsensical tune as she did.

"I never told her that 47, I never once mentioned that." She was looking at me, her expression miserable. We never talked about that day again either.

…

I was sat in the kitchen staring into the fire of the wood-burning stove. The dog appeared to be asleep in front of it, but it had one eye open staring at me balefully. I was sat upright in the chair, my hands resting on my thighs. Morgan was sat opposite me, her head resting in her folded arms on the table. It had been a long day of moving the sheep in a force ten gale it felt like. It was little bother for me, but she was only human. Her back was rising and falling in a steady rhythm, she appeared asleep but like the dog I was sure she wasn't. Her Uncle's deep voice was coming from the girl's bedroom directly above us clearly.

"Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light." I listened letting the peace wash over me, the unusual choice of reading material for a six year old piquing my interest.

"What does it mean?" My sudden question broke the quiet; Morgan jerked her head up her eyes blinking blearily.

"What-what does what mean?" I turned to look at her; her hair was stuck up at odd angles, her expression dazed and unsure. It was in unguarded moments like this that I saw the shadow of the person I had known before, the uncertain computer genius intent on helping people, not the remorseless killer who trapped people in the woods. My mouth twitched into a half smile, and I gestured toward the ceiling with my head.

"The poem. What does it mean, to rage against the dying light?" Her expression cleared, she smiled at me, amusement twinkling in her eyes.

"You're interested in poetry?" She gave me a sceptical look, the amusement growing.

"Why is that funny? I'm interested in the poem, yes." She raised an eyebrow at me, mocking the condescending expression I usually reserved for her. She cocked her head to one side, listening to her Uncle's voice.

"Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, Do not go gentle into that good night." Morgan smiled, it was sad as if she was remembering a forgotten moment.

"It's about death…and life." She murmured, her brown eyes looked warm in the firelight. "Mostly it's about living your life to the full, before its too late." I digested her words, glancing up.

"Bit heavy for a six year old." I commented, keeping my eyes on the ceiling. Morgan rubbed a hand over her face, sitting up properly to look at me.

"She likes Dylan Thomas. It helps her sleep. We tried Cinderella, believe me." She smirked at my confused expression and stretched her arms. "It's been a long day, I'm going upstairs. See you tomorrow?"

She asked that every night, like she wasn't sure if I'd be here when she woke up. And every night I did the same thing, I nodded. She got up and headed to the stairs, I followed her with my eyes. I had been here for at least a fortnight now, everyday I promised myself it was the last and every night I told her I'd see her tomorrow. It felt like I was stuck in a time loop here, wanting desperately to re-join the real world but unable to break the magnetic pull this place…no, this woman, had on me.

I had gathered titbits of intel over the weeks, enough to placate Diana, but it was Morgan I really wanted. I had discovered that the only way I was going to leave this broken contract satisfied was if I managed to persuade her to come with me. In theory it was doable, I had done it before, but she was very different and the child was a problem. I sighed, my life had been vastly less complicated before I took that contract to kill a crooked newspaper editor. The real question I kept asking myself was 'would I change it?' and the answer always came back a resounding no. I had tried living without her, and it had barely been worth it, so I would continue to fight to keep her in my life. Rhydian finished the poem, the last line ringing out in my head as if highlighting my turmoil.

"Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

…

The weather was becoming worse, autumn was starting to grip the land and with it brought sleeting rain and heavy squalls. If the mountains had appeared harsh and unforgiving before, now they were brutal. The clouds were gathering in ominous grey mounds above us as I helped Morgan check the perimeter of the farm. We were on foot, making sure there was no sign of any breach from the intimidating forest around us.

I had been up earlier than usual for me, trying to decide how to broach the subject of leaving with Morgan. I wasn't one for diplomacy, tending to opt for shooting people rather than negotiating with them, but I knew leaving here without her was not ideal. I worked better with her around, that was something I had learnt in the last five years. I had been the best even before I met her but with her as my handler, well, I had been phenomenal. It was hard to go back from that.

We walked in companionable silence along the forest edge, Morgan's arm occasionally brushing against mine sending a surprising jolt through me. She had relaxed more and more in my company, until we had nearly reached the easy partnership we had had before the Asylum in Romania. With my growing sense of unease at being here too long, and our strengthening relationship, this was as good a time as any to see if she would re-join the agency.

We had covered around five miles of the perimeter when the heavens suddenly opened, a deluge of rain hammering down on us out of nowhere. My vision was obscured by the grey curtain of water, the wind whipping it into a stinging barrage flying in our faces. We doggedly continued for a few moments before Morgan cursed harshly beside me.

"Fuck it." She scanned our surroundings, although how she could see anything in this was beyond me. "Over there. There's a shelter." She pointed into the middle of the field we were in and started fighting her way through the storm towards it. The rain intensified, so it felt more like a thousands stinging knives rather than water droplets. We picked up the pace, so we were going full sprint as we ducked into a meagre wooden lean to, obviously to shelter sheep from the worst of the weather. The grass was worn away to mud inside but mercifully it was facing away from the wind.

Even in our short stint outside we were still soaked through, my flannel shirt was dripping and I rolled my sleeves up to get it off at least some of my skin. Morgan was wearing the pale blue short sleeve shirt I had bought her in Italy, it touched me she had kept it after all this time, although it was doing a poor job in this weather. It had practically gone see through from the rain, and I found myself averting my eyes as it clung to her figure beneath, her skin showing through in patches. She didn't notice my embarrassment as she was staring out at the torrential downpour, her cheeks flushed from running.

"It's nicer in spring…promise." She chuckled, glancing sideways at me. I felt my stomach tighten at her contented expression, coupled with her damp appearance it was proving hard to think straight, and I needed my wits about me for this conversation. I looked away from her, keeping my face a blank mask as always.

"You know I can't stay." I said abruptly, and without ceremony. Her expression fell a bit at my blunt comment, her mouth twitching at the corner as she gave me a sad smile.

"A girl can dream." An air of quiet acceptance came over her and she stared down at her feet as she asked the question she had obviously been dreading to ask. "When are you going?" I sighed, now that I was having this conversation I had to fight every fibre of my being not to stop and just tell her I was staying indefinitely. It could be so easy; I could be normal. But it wasn't me.

"Tonight." The word flew out of me like a bullet from a gun. Morgan recoiled as if I had shot her, blinking rapidly in a daze.

"So soon?" Her voice was small and sad, filled with a longing I hadn't heard from her in a while. Maybe she wasn't as angry with me as I had originally thought. I felt the knot tighten inside of me as she stared out again at the rain, the sound of it on the wooden lean to surrounding us, cutting us off from the outside world. My mouth went dry as the request I had been waiting to say since I had found her again forced its way to my tongue.

"Come with me." My voice was low and fervent as I beseeched her. Her head whipped round to fix me with her sharp brown eyes, a conflict warring inside of them. I could see what looked like hope and elation, mixed with sadness and frustration.

"I can't." She shook her head, her eyes screwing shut. "It's too dangerous, for me, for Seren." A stab of frustration shot through my chest, I had known the child would be an obstacle.

"She'll be safe here, with your Uncle." Even as I said it a crawling sense of guilt leaked into the back of my mind. I was lying, there was no way her Uncle would be able to hold off anyone trying to find Seren, it was a wonder Morgan had managed all this time. The guilt was no match for my selfishness though; now that I knew she was alive I wanted Morgan by my side again, working with me.

She narrowed her eyes at me, I was certain she had picked up on my flippant tone. "No 47, he isn't a killer and I'd never ask that of him. I won't leave, not while I know this is the safest place for her." The selfish part of me grew angry, but I kept my outward appearance cool.

"I understand." I replied in a level voice. Morgan folded her arms, her expression hardening.

"Do you? Because it doesn't sound like you do." I could feel the conversation slipping away from me. I clenched my fists in frustration as I realised I wasn't going to convince her. I struggled to keep my tone calm as I countered her argument.

"And what happens when this isn't the safest place for her. What's your plan then?" She straightened up, making herself look bigger, anger flashing in her eyes.

"I plan to not have to leave, but if it came down to it, I'd find a way…I'd have to." I snorted humourlessly, her eyes narrowed at the dismissive noise.

"You're in over your head Morgan." My voice level was rising against my better judgement, I could feel the desperate frustration at having to leave her beginning to seep through. "I…we can help you." A nasty smirk twisted her mouth as she regarded me, her stance defensive.

"Throwing my lot in with you and the ICA has only led to the people I love dying and gaining a hefty 'wanted' sign over my head." She was in full argument mode now, it was unlikely I was going to win but I refused to give up.

My expression darkened as I retorted in a low, menacing tone, "You knew the risks." It was her turn to snort, a bitter edge to her words as she glared at me.

"I was naïve before." I took a step towards her, my anger a raging bonfire inside me now. Holding it back was proving difficult, I wanted to shake her and make her see her stubbornness and disobedience were the only reason she had found her self in the position she was now.

"I doubt that highly. You walked into this world with your eyes open, I made sure of it. So don't fool yourself." I saw her blink in surprise as I sustained the argument, usually I would keep my emotions in check and wait for her to calm down, but this time I was as angry as she was and I wasn't backing down. She seemed unsure how to proceed, her face clearing for a moment before her expression twisted into a mixture sadness and hatred I had never seen before.

"I didn't walk, I was pushed…by you." She spat the words at me. They felt raw, like a wound. As if she had been holding back these feelings for longer than I could comprehend.

"What? I never forced you into anything Mor-" The confusion was evident in my voice. I had never displayed this range of emotions in a conversation before, but she had this affect on me.

"You didn't need to. That's the point 47! I was blinded." Her eyes were glistening with angry tears now, her voice rising as the rain pounded on the wood above us. She had thrown me off guard and she knew it, my confusion was blatantly written on my face now as I tried to decipher what she was saying. She hadn't appeared blinded when she had agreed to work for us, she had seemed excited, almost eager. I couldn't justify this apparent anger towards the decision now.

"Morgan, what are you talking about?" I ventured, as she stared at me. waiting for my response. But I was uncertain what she wanted from me. She let out an angry wail and threw her hands in the air, the tears began to spill over, running down her cheeks.

"You cannot be that ignorant! I've seen you; you understand people's feelings. So why do you act like you don't understand mine for you?" I froze, her outburst going down a road I wasn't sure I wanted to explore. I had always tried to ignore the looks she had given me, the way she smiled at me when she thought I was looking, the way she laughed when I wasn't trying to be funny. I was the last person she should be attaching herself to, there wasn't a world I could see where I could give her what she wanted.

I swept the emotion from my face and voce immediately, talking in a careful, quiet tone as her brown eyes burned into my face. "You had a misplaced affection for me, I know-" She was in my face within seconds, toe to toe with me. I thought she was going to attack me, but made no effort to defend myself. She didn't though, she only growled through fiercely clenched teeth as the tears started to match the rain outside.

"Misplaced affection? Are you fucking serious?" Her voice was a deadly whisper, I could feel the pent up anger radiating off her. She kept her close proximity to me as her voice slowly crept up in volume, point by point. " _Affection_ wouldn't have convinced me to help you kill my boss and join your organisation. _Affection_ wouldn't have made me choose your life over my friend's. _Affection_ wouldn't have had me thinking about you every time I was alone, or asleep, or just generally fucking breathing!" She ended on a shout, stepping back abruptly to glare hatefully at me.

I didn't move, although every muscle in my body had been screaming to reach out and subdue her. The anger was still pulsing inside my chest, but there was a new icy cold feeling creeping up from my stomach. It was worse than I feared. I had assumed, naively maybe, that she had simply been harbouring a foolish attraction to me. It appeared the truth was far more damaging than any poison I could have given her. I closed my eyes, blocking out the image of her seething figure, her hurt expression.

"Are you saying what I think you are?" I spoke the words in a quiet voice, but I knew she heard me as she shifted her positioned in front of me. I looked at her again, my face impassive despite the turmoil inside me. Her tears had left red tracks down her face, her brown eyes filled with a hatred that stabbed harshly at my chest.

"You tell _me_ 47." Her tone was venomous, but I heard the wobble of emotion betraying her hurt at my response. Suddenly she turned away from me, her arms folded staring out into the rain. "You know what…fuck off. I don't need you ruining my life any more than you have already. _We_ don't need you." I had failed. I couldn't justify taking her with me when she felt the way she did. It would only end badly, for both of us. I sighed softly, the anger inside me dissipating almost instantly. My training took over and I shoved every emotion, every twinge and erroneous feeling behind a cast iron wall and vowed never to let them out again.

Then with one last lingering look at Moran's shuddering form I turned and walked out into the freezing rain, as she cried silently, alone in the field.

…

I shut the back door of the farmhouse as I strode towards my waiting car. Now that I was leaving I couldn't wait to be rid of this timeless, isolated wasteland. As I flung my belongings into the back of the Audi I became aware of a pair of blue eyes watching me. Turning I looked at the girl who was peaking round the corner of the building, her expression as blank as mine. It was unnerving, like looking in a strange mirror. I shuddered briefly before turning away again and moving to the driver's door.

"She'll come round you know, eventually." The low, gruff voice, made me stop in my tracks. I swivelled on the spot and fixed my icy gaze on the Uncle, stood by the back door, his arms folded. I couldn't help drawing parallels to the way his niece had stood as she argued with me, not long ago. The rain had stopped once I had got back to the farm, and I had waited to dry out before dressing again in my signature suit and preparing to disembark. I hadn't seen Morgan since her emotional outburst, but I had heard her as I buttoned up my white dress shirt, slamming the stable door and tearing away on that stallion of hers. The name she had chosen to give it had seemed like a humorous jibe before, now it was an obvious declaration. One I should have seen a lot sooner.

It was too late for that now, what was done was done. I had already caused enough damage staying here for so long, I had cause enough damage by selfishly keeping her in my life in the first place. I was oblivious to human emotions largely, but I wish I had known the depths of Morgan's feelings towards me. It might have changed things…it might have.

I stared blankly at Rhydian as he regarded me, his expression guarded. I wasn't in the mood for another lecture from him, I was unsure whether I would be able to leave him unharmed. I stiffened as he approached me, the girl who had been watching suddenly darted out of view as if afraid the old man would spot her. He stopped a few feet from me, his expression was stern but there was none of the anger I had expected. I had hurt his niece after all, maybe not physically but definitely emotionally. He glanced past me to look at the car.

"Got everything you need?" I nodded slowly, uncertain how to respond. He grunted in response, a man of few words, like me. "I just wanted to say, thanks for your help these past weeks." I felt my eyebrows rise infinitesimally. This was far from the conversation I had predicted I would have with this man. He huffed, obviously uncomfortable. "You being here…it's changed Morgan. She seems happier." I sighed closing my eyes, so this was a plea not a threat.

"I understand Mr Williams, but I can't stay. I never intended to be here for this long." The old man nodded, his grizzled brow furrowing.

"I know. I'm not asking you to stay, I'm just asking you to come back." I frowned back at him, my jaw clenching as I turned away to look at the hills, and my escape.

"I can't promise that." He stepped forward suddenly and placed a hand on my arm. My head whipped round at the contact, my eyes locking on to the old man's face. His expression was earnest, even desperate, his hazel eyes searching mine.

"She won't be mad forever. You mean a lot to her, and the girl…" He let out a sigh, breaking away from my gaze. "I do my best, but she needs a father." I extracted my arm, my eyes hardening at his presumption of me. I was not a role model, least of all to a young changeling. Morgan was right, it was better I left her to it.

"We'll see. I may not be able to return." Rhydian nodded, seeming to understand my comment.

"Yes, the world is a violent place. I'm only just beginning to realise that in my twilight years." He gave me an uncharacteristic smile, his face changed, softening. "All we can do is live our lives to the fullest, while we still have the time." Against my will I felt my mouth twitch at his reference.

"Rage against the dying of the light." I murmured gently. The old man's eyes widened, surprised at my knowledge of the poem.

"Indeed." He shook his head, the moment broken. When he stared at me again his cold stare had returned and he cleared his throat as he took a step back from me. "You'd better get on, the weather isn't going to hold for long." With this last gruff statement he turned and stalked back into the house. I gave a quiet snort, my mouth stretching into a sad half smile. Then I cleared my head of emotion and got into the car, the journey would be easier if I tried not to think about anything. As I started the engine and drove away from the rickety collection of buildings I caught sight of a stark silhouette on the ridge of the hill behind me. I kept my eyes on my rear view mirror until the image of the girl on the horse disappeared.

…

I felt like I had been driving for hours, but in reality it was the winding, narrow country lanes that gave the illusion of elongate time. I had cleared the forest and was on the track that led to the small town, not far from it by my prediction as I had passed a few solitary houses. I gripped the steering wheel tightly, keeping my head free of images of Morgan and the farm. In truth I had hated and loved being there in equal measure. The daze at finding my partner alive had lulled me into a sense of security and peace I hadn't felt since Sicily. However, I couldn't turn my back on the outside world as easily as Morgan had and needed to return to what I knew.

I glanced at my phone, checking to see if my signal had returned. Diana was probably wondering what had happened to me. I was about half a mile out of town when I got enough signal to contact my handler. I pulled the Audi over and initiated the call. She picked up after one ring.

"47? Where have you been? I thought…never mind, what is your status?" I rubbed a weary hand over my eyes as I formulated my response. No matter how concerned she sounded I was sure reporting my failure wasn't going to be favourably received.

"I've just left the target location." I heard her pause, waiting for me to continue but I couldn't find the right words.

"You have the girl?" Her tone was strained, and I felt suspicion creep into the back of my mind.

"Negative. I failed the mission. There was a…complication." The silence on the other end of the line was frosty. I waited patiently for her questioning, this was very out of character for me, sure to provoke an inquiry which the agency didn't need right now.

"Define complication." Her tone was hard as granite.

"I ran into an ex-asset. Codename Peregrine was the unidentified target and I felt it improper to dispose of an ally when the client is a direct competitor of the agency." Diana's pause this time was one of stunned silence.

"Impossible." I stared out the windscreen at the quickly gathering clouds. Another storm was on its way and ideally I wanted to be clear of the twisting, treacherous lanes before it reached me. "And what of the girl? Is she a changeling?" I opened my mouth to answer when the suspicion that had entered my mind sent a shiver down my spine.

"How do you know it was a girl?" My voice was steely, my eyes burning as I stared at the blackening horizon.

"What-the client said-"

"No they didn't. How do you know?" I felt a horrible dread filling my gut as I waited for my handler's response. She sighed and I felt the dread tighten into a heavy knot.

"I thought you had been compromised. Cicada called for a report and I told them what I thought had happened. They told me the contract was void and they would wipe out the target and retrieve the girl themselves." I flashed a glance out my side window, expecting to see an army of mercenaries outside. The wind pulled at the tall pine trees around me, all was still, quiet before the storm.

"When was this?" I snapped abruptly at her.

"Two days ago. I asked them…I asked them to retrieve your body if they found it. They said there would likely be nothing left once they had finished there." I gripped the steering wheel again, my knuckles turning white.

"I'm going back." The words came out before I had time to register what I was saying.

"47, I think that is unwise. Cicada are determined to reclaim what is theirs and kill Peregrine in the process obviously. They are sending in a lot of fire power, along with their own assets." She meant changelings. I could hear it in her voice. "Even you would to struggle to survive what they are throwing at that farm, she doesn't stand a chance." I felt a deep-seated anger flare up in my chest, and I started the car, preparing to change course.

"Exactly. I'm not leaving her to die again." I spat the last part through gritted teeth.

"47-" I hung up, cutting off my handler's voice. Then against my better judgment I turned the Audi around, heading back towards the farm and certain death.


	9. Chapter 8

**A/N: So here is the next chapter, just to let you all know there is going to be a bit of a gap between this one and the next one as I am going on holiday. 'Oh no!' I hear you all cry as one, 'How will we cope?' Don't worry my dear readers I will return, it is just a little break. Sorry to have to leave this on a cliff hanger, but I really wanted to give you another chapter before I jetted off. So, as always, read, review and of course, enjoy! :)**

Morgan

Chapter 8

My eyes stung as I galloped full speed across the mountainside. I told myself it was because of the harsh wind picking up over the ridge, but as my vision began to blur I knew the real cause was the fresh tears rolling down my face. I urged Tobias faster, desperate to escape the sight of 47's black Audi driving away into the distance.

I had been a complete fool; first of all for convincing myself he would ever consider staying here with me when this place had nothing to offer him, and secondly for confessing my true feelings for him during one of the worst arguments I had ever had with him. The man had never shown any willingness towards discussing emotions, no wonder he had run for the literal hills the minute I had bared my soul in front of him. All in all, nice going I thought.

I focused on the reliable rhythm of Tobias' hoof beats; it dulled the painful aching in my chest. I wasn't entirely sure where I was going, I had just wanted to get as far away from the farm as I could. Seren shouldn't see me like this and my Uncle would only claim he told me so. Memories of the urgent talk my Uncle Rhydian had had with me after I had returned with the sheep I had lost came flooding into my mind. I had been sporting a hefty bruise on my temple from the impromptu brawl we had got into with Llyr's hired thugs. He had been waiting for me in my room, sat on the end of my bed, his hands clasped on his lap.

"I got ten of them back. Two got caught in my traps, I'll compensate you." I had grumbled at him as I walked into my bedroom. He had stared at me, with that irritating, knowing look he had.

"Got into a bit of trouble to get them I see." I raised a hand and touched the spreading bruise tentatively.

"Llyr took them, had to go remind him finders keepers isn't an argument that will stand up in court." He made a disapproving noise, his brow furrowing.

"I'm sure you did. You should be careful with those Evans boys, they're bad news." I flashed him a sarcastic look and folded my arms across my chest defensively.

"Please, that bunch of cowardly sheep-shaggers have to hire muscle to defend their stupid drug cover up. Besides, I had our guest with me." Uncle Rhydian's look turned disapproving.

"Be careful of that man Morgan." I felt myself becoming defensive at his condescending tone. Even after all these years and all I'd been through I didn't like the way he could make me feel like a child again with a look and a stern word.

"I _am_ careful Uncle Rhydian, I know him, and he isn't dangerous. Not to us." He stood up and walked towards me, his expression softening slightly. He carefully placed a hand on my arm, and fixed me with a wise stare.

"I loved my brother Morgan, and you are his only child. I promised him I would look after you, and I intend to do that." I closed my eyes, the mention of my father sending a stab of grief through my chest. My Uncle continued, his voice soft. "I can see this man means a lot to you, you wouldn't have let him anywhere near here if not. But he is very different to you I can see that. Be careful you don't lose your way following some man who doesn't feel the same as you." I looked at him sharply, I knew his warning had the ring of truth to it, but I was stubborn and embarrassed I was so transparent.

"I don't need a love lesson Uncle, least of all from you." I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth. He blinked, taken aback by my hurtful comment, slowly he lowered his hand until it hung at his side. The sadness that overwhelmed his old face brought a different wave of grief to me. "Uncle Rhydian…I'm sorry…I didn't-" I stammered, trying to voice my remorse. He shook his head and began to turn away from me.

"No Morgan, I know you didn't, but maybe you're right. Excepting relationship advice from an old fool who has lived alone for most of his life is a bit strange." He paused before he reached my bedroom door. "Just…don't dismiss what I said too hastily. I just can't picture my little blodyn tatws who wanted to be a wildlife photographer, falling for someone like him." He left, quietly shutting the door behind him. I clenched my hands into tight fists, channelling my frustration into them. I didn't want to admit he was right, but he had uncanny ability to read me like a book.

The sudden reappearance of my old agent had rekindled a lot of long buried feelings inside me. I had been shocked at the intensity of my emotions even after walking away from him all those years ago. I had lain awake most of the night before reminding myself of who he was, of what he was and how me going all doe eyed over him wasn't going to get me anywhere. My Uncle's warning sounded in my head and I frowned as I flopped down on the end of my bed, the bruise from our recent fight throbbing painfully. I wouldn't let my emotions run away with me, he would likely leave in a day or two, but until then I would take it a step at a time. I only worried about Seren being so close to her genetic double, the girl wasn't stupid and I was unsure what 47's presence would do to her.

I was jolted out of my memories as Tobias leapt over a deep gully in our path. I tipped forward as he took off, allowing him to clear the jump, my hands gripping tightly to the reins. I blinked, trying to clear my eyes remembering what my Uncle had said. I had thought he was being over protective, assuming I was that infatuated with 47, but as I had found out earlier, much to my chagrin, he had been right, about everything.

A sob broke from my chest as I relived our argument in the lean to. How could I have been so stupid? Letting myself believe he would stay, almost giving in when he asked me to come with him. Seren deserved better than me, I had been weak, nearly throwing away five years of hard work to keep her safe because of a man. True, it was the same man who had led me to her. I wouldn't have had Seren in my life if it weren't for 47, but he was dangerous, he attracted danger. I had already lost too much being a part of his world, I didn't belong there anymore.

I brought Tobias from a break neck gallop to a steady canter as I realised where I had been heading. I was approaching the north part of the forest; it was the place I usually went to hunt. Here the forest was deeper; it ran for at least three miles until you reached the other side. It was where the most deer hid and was easy to get lost in. I slowed the stallion to a stop and let the wind tug at my hair and clothes. The rushing sound of it filled my ears and I closed my eyes, blocking out the past few weeks, forgetting the incriminating words I had shouted at the assassin. I would get over him, I had done it before.

I began to distance myself from the turmoil in my mind; I might as well do some hunting while I was here. I knew there was a storm approaching, I could feel it on the wind, see it in the angry clouds stacking themselves in great grey columns above. I didn't care, there was no way I was going back to that lonely farm in my current state, I needed to forget.

I urged Tobias into a gallop again and took off into the forest, winding along the narrow path that was worn into the earth. I wiped my eyes viciously with the back of my hand, trying to clear my vision enough to navigate through the close packed tree trunks. I soon lost myself in concentration, ducking and dodging wayward branches and clawing brambles. The horse beneath me did a good job of compensating for my less than cool riding, picking the clearest path for himself and his rider. We burst dramatically into a small clearing, Tobias skidded to a stop automatically, recognising the place I usually left him to go hunting.

I leapt from his back and tied him to a tree, giving him enough slack so he could dip his head and beginning ravaging the nearby foliage. With no regard for where I was heading I marched off into the dim trees, as if putting space between me and the farm would erase what had happened. Eventually I settled into what I was doing, my pace slowing, straining my hearing trying to detect signs of movement in the undergrowth.

Hunting had never been something I had enjoyed as a child. I knew my Uncle and Father used to go off and do it some weekends, but I preferred to stalk animals to take photos of them not kill them. In some ways my photographic exploits had aided me when I had decided killing our own food reduced the need to leave the safety of the farm. I had known where to look for my prey and when, and I had known how to track it through the dense woodland. It had been the stealth and the aiming that had eluded me quite a bit to begin with, but over time I had improved and hunting the skittish deer had helped me when it came to stalking a much deadlier kind of prey. Now hunting was a release for me, it was guaranteed alone time, Seren was too young for it, and I wasn't sure teaching her how to kill was the best idea. It was something I was good at and I always felt a confidence boost in what I was trying to do here when I managed to take down a particularly tricky quarry.

I began walking lightly, heel to toe trying to keep my noise levels down. The deer usually congregated in the thickest part of the forest, where the mountain loomed above its canopy. It was the area I had placed the least traps, as most people venturing into this part were hopelessly lost. Occasionally the traps that were there picked up a stray deer or rabbit, but where was the fun in that? I was nearing the place I knew they tended to be, I listened carefully to the sounds of the forest. It was then I realised how eerily quiet it was. Apart from the building wind rushing through the trees there was no birdsong, no rustle of squirrels, only the approaching storm and my beating heart.

I was certain it was the storm's fault, the roar of its advancing fury already evident in the distance. However, a small, paranoid niggling part of me wasn't sure and I made a mental note to keep an ear out for anything that sounded out of place. I pressed on, hoping the deer had decided to take cover in the trees, when I heard the sound of a hoof breaking a twig up ahead.

Automatically I lowered into a crouch and reached behind to unhook my bow from my back. I crept forward, my mind completely taken over with the hunt, all thoughts of a certain assassin disappearing in an instant. There was the sound of a body moving through the undergrowth ahead, it was moving slowly. I took another step, paused, then another, the deer moved again, the sound growing louder. If I wasn't mistaken it appeared it was moving towards me. I stilled, nocking an arrow in readiness, keeping my breathing steady and quiet. This was going to be over quicker than I had anticipated, I thought as my prey took two more unguarded steps in my direction. Then there was the faintest click of metal on metal.

My blood froze, my arms froze, just everything in general froze. I had been doing this twice a month for five years and there was one thing I knew for certain. Deer didn't carry heavy assault rifles. I flattened myself to the ground in an instant, my heart pounding in my ears making it hard to hear where the person was. I kicked myself repeatedly for my utter, utter stupidity. I had charged into the forest with absolutely no regard for where I was going or how much noise I was making, and then I had mistaken a mercenary for a fucking deer. Maybe 47 was right about some things, emotions clouded your judgement and made you take stupid risks.

I held my breath as the sound of a heavy military boot crunching on fallen leaves reached me. They couldn't be more than a few feet away, and I was in a very precarious position. I was hidden in a thick knot of brambles, the tiny vicious thorns were digging into me from all sides. With my belly flat in the dirt I had zero chance of being able to fire my bow if this mercenary stumbled upon me, my best bet was hoping they didn't see me at all and passed on by. The bush up ahead moved as a tall black shadow pushed through them.

"Shit." I breathed quietly. The mercenary finally came into view, dressed in black, his face was uncovered and he was scanning the trees with a piercing stare. He moved closer to my hiding place, his rifle held ready in front of him. I tensed, praying for him to walk past. He stopped a few feet from me, I was convinced he would hear my heart hammering against my ribcage it was that loud. I wished right then I had my machete, as I stared at his foot within easy swinging distance. It was becoming harder and harder to stay still, as the bramble thorns dug their way deeper into my flesh; a thousand tiny needles piercing my skin.

The mercenary started to move again, and much to my horror he was headed straight for the bramble bush. Within seconds he would either see me or be standing on top of me, so I did the only thing I could think of. Inch by inch I shuffled my hand to my quiver and slid an arrow out. The heavy military boots suddenly appeared in front of my face. Without hesitation I reached up and drove the arrow into the man's leg, lodging the sharp metal tip behind his kneecap.

The mercenary let out an agonised scream and pointed his rifle at my head. A rapid clicking emitted from it, and whilst the confused man was trying to find out why his gun was jammed I yanked the arrow free and stood up; his eyes widened briefly as I reinserted the arrow into his exposed neck. He let out a gargling cry, a spray of blood escaping the wound. I could feel my jaw tightening as I held the arrow in place, twisting it until the light faded from the mercenary's eyes and he collapsed side ways.

I let out my breath in a loud rush as I retrieved my bloodied arrow. Wiping a shaking hand over my face, I scanned the now dead mercenary's body. My eyes land on the small white insignia stitched onto his black tactical gear. The cicada stared back at me accusingly, my blood turning to ice in my veins. I looked around, listening intently, trying to pinpoint where his comrades were. There was no way he had come alone, I did wonder absent-mindedly why he had tried to walk through the densest part of the forest. It didn't take long before I heard more movement in the darkness, the canopy was moving like a turbulent sea above my head so I knew the other mercenary couldn't be far, for me to hear them.

I nocked an arrow in my bow and kept my eyes fixed on where I had heard the body moving through the bushes. I wasn't happy how they had taken me by surprise, and the presence of Cicada's own militia was unnerving me greatly. I lowered into a crouch and decided to take the aggressive approach. Quietly I moved towards where I thought the dead mercenary's comrade had gone. Pushing through the undergrowth it finally cleared to reveal a small deer track weaving through the trees. On it were two more mercenaries, both with the Cicada insignia emblazoned on their chest. My eyes narrowed as I found the rest of my friend's buddies, at least this would be over quickly.

In this part of the forest they were a way from any traps, my only advantages were going to be the element of surprise and my EMP barrier. Drawing back the bowstring I aimed at the closest one's head, they were looking the other way, oblivious to the arrow pointed at their temple. Just as I was about to release the deadly missile, the mercenary furthest away turned and called over to their partner.

"No sign of any hostiles, radios are still inactive." I frowned, radios? Why would they need radios? They were all within shouting distance of each other, unless there were another few floating around. From my experience I had never had a group of freelancers larger than six, it was obvious Cicada didn't want to draw attention to their little project here, avoiding the chance of a dramatic gunfight. It didn't matter anyway, radios or not they were a long way from the other side of the forest here.

Readjusting my aim I looked down the shaft of the arrow, steadying my hands as best I could. I waited for the mercenary who had talk to turn away, before releasing the arrow. It flew away from me with a rush of air and landed with a satisfying thud in the nearest man's head. He made no noise as he fell into the bushes around him, the foliage silencing his fall. I felt my limbs relaxing slightly as I downed another enemy, I didn't have long to pause though as his partner turned instinctively sensing his fate.

"Man down! Man down!" He shouted as he waded through the undergrowth towards his partner. I rolled my eyes, loading another arrow as my next quarry ran towards my hiding place. The mercenary knelt down to examine his friend as I grimly pulled back the bowstring once more. I remained fixed in that position as the shadows started to detach from the trees surrounding the two men in front of me. There were at least ten other mercenaries all advancing on me, scanning the forest as they moved.

I could feel my heart stuttering as the cold, harsh reality of what was happening sank in. This was it. Cicada were finally playing their hand, sending all they had to bring an end to me and my family. I shrank back into the bushes, unsure what to do now. I was certain that there were even more of them, probably entering all sides of the forest. Cicada's plan was to overwhelm me, and they were probably going to succeed. I could see a mix of men and women in amongst the militia, they were spreading out and soon I would be surrounded. I listened to them as I tried to think of what to do.

"What happened here?"

"He was taken out by a projectile. My guess is the attacker is still nearby."

"Affirmative. Our intel suggests the signal is coming from this part of the woods. We are close."

My eyes widened as their conversation triggered something inside of me. They were trying to find my EMP generator, so Cicada knew what I had been doing all this time. I could feel myself start to panic, with no way of knowing how many there were, there was a chance they could already be closing in on the farm. I fought back frustrated tears as I wished I hadn't decided today of all days to confess my feelings for that stupid man. I might have had a chance if he was still here with me.

I had two options; I could try and take out as many as I could and hope to god the alarm had gone off soon enough for Uncle Rhydian to prepare, or I could do the unthinkable, set off my fail safe and destroy my protective barrier. Both options were unlikely to succeed but I refused to just sit here and hope my forest would stop them. Whipping my head round I saw the mercenaries moving around me, heading towards the first dead body. Decision time, I had to move. Assessing the odds I decided fighting would be suicidal and ill advised; if 47 had been here I might have considered it. We had made quite the team on the Evans' farm. Alone I was most likely dead, I needed to concede defeat and activate my self-destruct button. Although I knew my Uncle wasn't going to like this one bit.

I turned as silently as I could; the storm was directly overhead, mercifully masking my retreat through the bushes. The wind and rain merely a growing cacophony above the thick canopy, the dense trees protecting the forest floor from the harsh elements. I used it to my advantage, moving as quickly as I could in a crouch, past the dead man I had surprised earlier and towards the sloping incline of the mountain. All I could hope was that they hadn't cut me off and found where I was headed before I got there.

I was running towards my EMP generator, the guardian angel I had created five years ago to give me a fighting chance surviving the hit on my head. Unfortunately it seemed Cicada also knew about my secret weapon and had sent in their drones to disable it. I smiled grimly as I pushed my legs to go faster, straightening up into a run as I neared the hidden heart of the forest. Well, I'd disable it for them, but not in the way they planned.

The ground was sloping up steeply now, as the forest climbed the mountainside. I knew I was close as I past an abandoned, rusting mine cart and the twisted remnants of a railway track. I had to lean forward and use my hands as the incline was so severe here, I dug my nails into the soft forest detritus pulling myself higher. My heart pounded widely as I glanced over my shoulder, convinced someone was following me. Images of killers carrying guns entering my Uncle's farm, Seren's terrified face, my Uncle fighting as best he could, spurred me on quicker. I could see the entrance to its hiding place when I felt a strong hand wrap around my ankle and pull me backwards, off my feet.

I slid down the hill on my stomach, my hands outstretched as I tried to stop my descent. Flashing a look around I located my attacker off to one side of me. The mercenary was glaring at me; she had no gun but was holding a serrated hunting knife ready in one hand. My stomach dropped as I assessed my awkward position, thankfully I slowed, a small avalanche of pine needles and fallen leaves rustling around me. She moved towards me the knife held back as she prepared to swing at me, I scrambled for the bow on my back but again the close quarters of the mercenary meant I would have little chance to use it effectively. Still it was all I had.

She lunged, the knife swiping inched from my face as I moved back, the ground giving way again as I struggled for purchase on the unstable hillside. She let out a low growl as she advanced on me again, I had retrieved my bow but I couldn't move back fast enough to get the time to load and aim it. We slid around on the steep slope, evading and advancing on each other, waiting for a window to attack.

I ducked behind a tree, hoping the cover would allow me to nock an arrow, but she appeared almost instantly around the side, her knife taking a chunk out of the trunk as I moved just in time. We had come full circle and I began to back away up the slippery slope, the avalanche of forest decay increasing as my movements became desperate. I managed to build the gap between us enough to place an arrow in my bow, and I was just drawing the bowstring when the mercenary leapt at me unexpectedly from her disadvantaged position.

At the last second I raised my bow to block her, the knife clacking loudly on the hard varnished wood of my weapon. She grimaced in frustration, as I pushed her back down the hill. Luckily she was of a similar build to me, if it had been a man I would have struggled to last this long in hand-to-hand combat. However, she was trained and I was not. She saw what I was doing and quickly changed her approach, using her free hand to grab my bow she yanked on it, pulling me forward and sending me tumbling down the hillside. I rolled in a flurry of leaves and twigs, the wind rushing out of me as I hit rocks and trees on my way.

Finally I stilled, my head spinning from my ungainly descent. The forest lurched around me as I desperately tried to regain my footing, gripping onto a nearby tree for support, the rough bark cutting into my hand. I heard the mercenary racing towards me down the hill before I could see her. I had dropped my bow and was looking around my feet to find it when I heard the whoosh of air signalling another attack. Instinctively I raised my arm to cover my face, the knife cut through my shirt and jacket and bit into the soft flesh underneath. I yelled out as the pain flashed through my arm and up my shoulder. My vision solidified and I locked onto the woman in front of me, her knife still lodged in my arm.

She drew back releasing me, and I clutched my injury to me, trying to stem the flow of sticky, hot blood already oozing from the wound. I could see her already winding up for another attack, I was aware I was running out of options and she now had the high ground. Glancing around me wildly I spotted my discarded bow, it was lying next to an arrow that had also been flung from me after my somersault of death down the hill. Even if I could reach it quick enough, with an injured arm I was going to struggle to fire my bow accurately, if at all. I didn't have any more time to think however as the mercenary grabbed at me, trying to finish the job she had started.

I ducked out of reach of her grasping hand and rolled in the direction of my only weapon. The pain in my arm flared harshly as I jostled it, but I clenched my teeth and bit back the urge to scream out again. I skidded to a stop by my bow and picked it up with my uninjured limb. I was still crouched down, my eyes glued to the woman now stalking above me, her eyes wary. I attempted to pick up the arrow to fit it in place but cursed as my hand refused to acknowledge my instructions to it. I wasn't sure if she had severed the nerves in my arm or if the pain alone was paralysing me, but right now I had a weapon I couldn't use and a rapidly approaching solider with a knife to worry about.

My stomach squeezed in fear as she bore down on me, seeing my weakness and coming in for the kill. In a flash I thought of a different approach, rolling onto my back completely I stared up the hill at the charging mercenary. Fitting the arrow with my good hand and holding it in place I hooked my foot onto the bowstring and pulled back with all my might. The woman let out a battle cry as she ran at me, the knife raised. Rocking back so I had to crane my neck to see her I angled the now drawn bow at her torso. There was a brief look of panic as she launched herself at me, seeing the arrow pointed at her stomach, then I unhooked my foot letting the bowstring fire the missile at her.

She seemed to freeze mid attack, her eyes wide as she looked down at the arrow now embedded in her abdomen. Instantly I was on my feet again, yanking the arrow from her she let out a grunt of pain. Then, as I had done with her comrade before I shoved it with all my body weight into her throat, puncturing her windpipe. She fell back with a low gurgle and I watched, breathing heavily as the forest floor turned red with a mixture of her blood and mine.

"Holy fuck, that was close." I panted, to no one in particular. The adrenaline was still surging through me, so I used it to my advantage gathering my bow and quiver and racing back up the hill to the generator. If one had got that close to my hiding place then more were likely on route. I past the point I had been ambushed and took the last few strides to the entrance in bounding leaps. My head was starting to spin slightly from my loss of blood but I needed to do this as quickly as possible to get as many mercenaries as I could.

A rocky cliff stretched up in front of me, a seemingly un-scalable dead end, but hidden in the jagged outcrop of stone was a small hole, big enough for one person to squeeze through. It was all that was left of an old drift mine in the side of the mountain; it had been abandoned for years and was partly caved in. However, I had propped up what was worth saving and had placed my EMP generator in a cavern inside. I gave one last glance around before sucking in my breath and edging into the narrow opening, my bow scrapping on the rough rock as I did.

Once inside the tunnel forced me to my knees and I wriggled in until the daylight faded and darkness began to press in on me. I was still holding on tightly to my arm, the blood soaking through my fingers, leaving a macabre trail on the stone. I didn't need light to find my way, I had spent months in this dank tunnel, propping up the falling rocks with wooden struts. I had deliberately kept some passages open to fool anyone who happened to get lucky and stumble on this place. I came to a fork and took a left, fighting back a wave of nauseas as my body warned me of a lack of blood to the brain.

The tunnel got narrower here, and I had to shuffle sideways on my rear to get through, finally just as I thought I was about to faint, the passage opened up into a cavern. It was around the size of a modest living room, and I could nearly stand up straight, my head grazing the precarious wooden beams above. I lurched over to a small lamp in the corner and flicked it on, casting a warm orange glow over the area. Shadows danced playfully on the walls as I sank to the floor, turning my attention finally to my arm.

The cut was deep; deep enough to need stitches but I didn't have the equipment for that. Grimacing as I moved the sickeningly painful limb, I tore a strip off my shirt and began wrapping it tightly around the gaping wound. The pain intensified as I bound it, cutting off the blood flow and using my teeth to tie it securely. My arm throbbed but the sharp pain was dulled, and the blood had stopped dripping from my fingers. It would have to be enough for now; I had little time to lose. Every second I sat here the mercenaries could be leaving the forest and advancing on the house.

I heaved myself up using the wall as support and took in my masterpiece. The large metal container in the centre of the cavern was surrounded by wires leading to four industrial batteries; I had stolen them from a power plant when I first got here. They had been difficult to get, along with the huge amount of copper wire I had needed and the two large cavity magnetrons that turned the seemingly harmless metal container into a reverse microwave of sorts.

I had never thought when I took my high school Physics lessons that I would put Mr Stevens' teachings on microwaves and transmitters to use in quite this way. I had placed four transmitters around the forest that the magnetrons sent their electromagnetic pulses to; this created a perpetual barrier around the perimeter of the farm. I had hoped it would be enough to keep us safe for an extended period of time, allowing me to deal with any intruders without risk of being gunned down instantly. However, I wasn't naïve, the ICA had taught me to plan for the worst on every contract, and so I had.

Whilst I had been going to the trouble of breaking into a power plant on the coast of Wales, I had paid a visit to a military storage base on the way back home. With a bit of hacking magic I had diverted a shipment of MK3 anti-tank land mines. They were now dotted around the forest, in a state of hibernation as long as the EMP was active. In the event of an overwhelming invasion I could overcharge the generator sending out a burst of energy, triggering all the land mines simultaneously. It was a giant self-destruct button on the forest, which I would be relatively safe from in the mine, and my family safe on the farm.

The catch, as there was always a catch, was that the EMP would be disabled for at least half an hour, as it had to recharge. This meant if I didn't take out all the mercenaries with the mines, I would be vulnerable to their weapons. But my mind was made up, I couldn't fight the number I had seen when I had barely escaped that last one alive, this trap was meant as a last resort and I felt I had reached that.

I practically fell on the generator, searching around I found the large dial which set the power. I turned it to full and listened as the low thrum of the magnetrons increased in volume. The small battery powered lamp in the corner began to flicker as the field increased gradually around us. I waited until a red LED light sprang to life next to a small, unassuming switch. Placing my finger on the metal switch I took a deep breath in, unsure how this was going to pan out. Then closing my eyes I pressed down, sending the charge out.

There was a pop and the lamp was extinguished behind me, then silence as the thrumming ceased. I felt my chest constrict in fear as the quiet stretched on, maybe I had left the mines inactive for too long, maybe the charge had broken them instead of triggering them. My mind raced as I faced the possibility of having to fight an army of Cicada mercenaries single-handedly, and without an EMP, then the earth shook around me. The sound of the explosion was all consuming as hundreds of landmines detonated in perfect synchronisation. I gripped onto the metal container as my shoddy wooden supports swayed under the shock of the multiple blasts, and my heart leapt into my mouth as I faced the prospect of being buried alive. The explosion died away to be replaced by a distant rumble from within the hollowed mountain itself, I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed.


	10. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hello everyone, I'm back! Thank you for your patience, but everyone needs a break from time to time. Anyway, back to business. Here is the next chapter and I should be posting fairly regularly again now. As always, read, review and enjoy! :)**

Chapter 9

I clung onto the now quiet EMP generator, listening to the ominous sounds from within the mine as the land shifted around me. A few rogue rocks bounced down from between the beams but mercifully it held, a shower of dust falling like snow around me. The rumble gradually faded into nothing, and I let out a tightly held breath. Phase one complete. Now to assess the damage I had done. Rubbing the dust from my eyes I edged around the cavern in the inky black, feeling my way with one arm as best I could.

The EMP let out a muted click as it started the recharge process, I gritted my teeth hoping my 'ring of fire' had taken out the mercenaries all together but I didn't want to get my hopes up. My arm was still unusable but at least my blood wasn't trying to evacuate my body at such an alarming rate. It throbbed; sending waves of aching pain like a beacon through me, reminding me of my inadequacy at taking on an army of highly trained soldiers.

The daylight, although dimmed by the dense trees, was still blinding after the total darkness of the cramped mine. I slid out of the entrance and sat panting, catching my breath on the bed of fallen pine needles. The forest sloped away from me and from my vantage point I could see the extent of the destruction I had caused. The place was decimated. Even though a large proportion of the forest was still intact, it was pock marked with craters of smouldering, splintered trees. Thick columns of smoke rose periodically along the forest perimeter, the storm dragging the growing towers to one side as it picked up speed.

I let out a shaky sigh as I straightened up, gripping onto the rock face behind me. My vision blurred as my body redistributed the meagre blood supply I had left. I couldn't stay here any longer; I had to get back to the farm as quickly as possible. The land mines might have taken out a good chunk of what Cicada had thrown at me, but the farm was now more vulnerable with the EMP now down leaving way clear for other…dangers.

My heart clenched in cold fear as I slide back down the hill, using the trees to keep me upright. I couldn't be sure Cicada had sent their best weapons, but if I were them I would have. I had only seen a changeling once before, and it was a wonder I had survived then. If I was honest the EMP had been to give me an advantage over an armed opponent, but a small, terrified part of me had enhanced it to keep out Cicada's horrifically brutal child soldiers. The irony was it had made a prisoner of Seren.

I skidded to the bottom of the steep incline and launched myself into a stilted run. My arm was jostled uncomfortably and I pinned it to my body as best I could to limit the pain. Skirting round the bent and buckled tree trunks, I stared in awe at the great hollows I had taken out of the forest floor. The earth was dark and exposed, like a fresh wound. There was no sign of any mercenaries, and I briefly glimpsed a severed limb lying as if discarded and forgotten by its owner at the bottom of one of the pits.

I weaved my way through the forest, trying to pin point landmarks in amongst the chaos. Finally I recognised where I was headed and a gut wrenching thought floated to the surface of my mind. Tobias! I had left him tethered to a tree in the middle of my explosive trap. I pushed my legs to go faster, he was my quickest way back to the farm. Without him I was sure I would pass out before making it back. A horrible image of my horse scattered to the four winds, or worse, severely injured made my breathing stutter with frustrated sobs. This whole day had gone to shit in a hand basket, really fast.

As I neared the clearing where I had left him I scanned the tree line for signs of an explosion. The forest here still looked relatively intact and I held my breath as I broke through the undergrowth and onto the soft grassy moss of the clearing. Tobias spotted me and began tugging desperately on his reins, his eyes rolling in his head as he stared terrified at me. He let out a guttural roaring sound as he continued to try and break free of his tether. I advanced on him slowly, forcing my injured hand up to try and calm the petrified stallion. I quietly assessed him as I took small steps forward. He seemed mercifully unharmed, his muscles straining as his bridle began to dig into his head.

"It's okay lad. It's okay." I hushed him, taking a decisive step towards him and grabbing his bridle with my good hand. The horse jerked its head back in alarm, all but pulling me off my feet. "Whoa Tobias, calm down." I pleaded, eager to get back to Seren and Uncle Rhydian. I took a deep breath, knowing my distress wasn't going to help me here. I continued to murmur to the beast until finally I saw his muscles relax, his ears standing to attention instead of being flattened to his skull. I quickly pulled myself into the saddle, not wanting to give Tobias a chance to get worked up again. Gathering the reins into my uninjured right hand I gripped my crippled left arm to me, kicking Tobias forward. The stallion skittered on the spot, uncertain about entering the surrounding forest.

"Go on boy." I crooned to him in a pained voice, placing a bloody hand on his neck. I felt him shudder then still under my touch, this time my kick sent him leaping forward into a strong gallop. An arrow of pain shot up through my arm as I bent over his neck, tightening my legs around him to keep me steady. I kept scanning the trees to either side, searching for movement. Hope began to grow inside me as the forest remained still and silent, except for the sound of Tobias' pounding hoof beats and my ragged breathing. Had I managed to stop the siege before it had begun?

The trees were thinning now, I adjusted my balance as the horse weaved between tree trunks and deep, gaping craters. As we broke free of the forest's oppressive, smoke filled boundary, I urged Tobias to go faster. Nervous energy started to fizz through my veins, I needed to see Seren, know she was safe. A heavy lead weight settled deep in my stomach as I realised we probably couldn't stay here now. Cicada had become confident enough to send an army regardless of the scene it would cause. Who knew what they would send next?

Actually I had a pretty good idea. The weight bubbled and shifted until I was holding back a terrified wave of nausea. The field stretched out ahead of me, a great expanse of muted green. As I thundered up the first small hill heading back to the farm, the wind reached a fever pitch, tearing at me like a thousand tiny hands trying to unseat me. I glanced up at the dramatic grey sky; the storm had finally arrived.

I let out an angry hiss as I crested the hill, the wind filling my ears now, and dipped down the other side. A figure in black was running in the same direction as me, their rifle held in both hands. So I hadn't killed them all, it had been a lot to hope for. Wariness forced me to slow Tobias a little; we were on a slightly more even playing field here. The mercenary's gun would be working and I was injured. However, I had the high ground and the element of surprise as the storm wind masked my approach.

As if to prove my point a strong gust swept across the rolling field, making the mercenary stagger slightly and forcing me to tighten my grip on the saddle. The mercenary looked up but not behind. Glancing down at my hastily bound arm I clenched my teeth in frustration. I was still unable to fire my bow, so it was as good as useless, still I had nothing else to use. I felt the first ice cold drops of rain begin to land on my face as an idea came to me. I wasn't sure it would work but there was no way I was going to let this guy get any further if I could help it.

Wincing I lifted my left arm and unhooked my bow. Holding it loosely I examined the bowstring; it was made from polythene fibre, strong, but how strong? I switched it to my good hand, letting the reins fall loose against Tobias' neck. I steered him with my legs so my target was on my right side, then kicked him into a full on charge. Gripping the bow tightly, I held it out away from my body. The mercenary was getting closer and I narrowed my eyes, squinting through the growing curtain of rain. Was it stronger than a fibre wire? I was about to find out.

The mercenary heard me at the last moment. I saw it was a man as he turned to face me, his eyes widening at the sight of the giant black stallion bearing down on him. He raised his gun but we were already upon him. As Tobias shot past the man mere inches from him, I hooked the bow over his head and tucked my elbow tightly to my side.

I braced, tightening my leg muscles as I felt the sharp jerk as the bowstring found its target and wrapped around the mercenary's neck. The dead weight at the end of my arm increased as the horse's momentum yanked the man off his feet and began to drag him behind us. I prayed silently for the bowstring to hold, fighting against the force attempting to rip the bow from my grasp. The tendons in my arm began to strain as the fibre did indeed hold, the man emitting a strangled cry as his feet bounced along in time to Tobias' hooves. I flicked a glance down at my victim. His face was turning blue, his rain slick hands scrabbling desperately at the polythene wire around his throat.

My arm was now on fire as the muscles began to tire at dragging a man one handed by his neck on a galloping horse. I could feel the smooth wood of the bow slipping gradually through my fingers as the rain beat down relentlessly. We were just starting our ascent of the next rise when I felt the weight increase infinitesimally on my arm. Looking down I saw the mercenary's limp body bounce a couple more paces before his lifeless head slipped out of the bow's hold.

I let out a pent up breath as his corpse receded behind me, my arm hanging by my side for a moment as the life came back to it. Just as I was about to disappear over the next hill a quick movement behind me caught my eye. I gathered up my discarded reins and brought Tobias to a momentary halt as I peered through the grey sheet of rain obscuring my vision, trying to see if it was another mercenary. The thing, whatever it was, had also stopped and appeared to be staring straight at me. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, and looked again at the hill. Whoever they were they appeared small for a mercenary, then the wind gusted blowing the rain horizontal and clearing the view for a second, causing my heart to stop. The figure turned and disappeared almost instantly, as if they had teleported off the hill, but not before I got a good long look at the glassy eyed stare of the changeling. Their young face framed by tangled ropes of wet blonde hair.

"Shit. Go Tobias, go." I urged in a hoarse voice, I could barely hear myself over the storm. My eyes remained wide and fixed on the spot where the child assassin had been moments before. The farm, I needed to get back to the farm. I struggled to keep the terror from overwhelming me as I leant forward, signalling for the stallion to go as fast as he could. The rain drove into my face, cutting into me like a thousand knives. My heart was stuttering back to life as I tore across the mountainside, I kept flicking furtive looks behind to see if there was any sign of the small figure running after me. The changeling had looked to about 13 or 14, meaning their advantage was strength not speed. Still I wasn't sure if they could still outrun Tobias.

I encountered no more mercenaries, but they were the last thing I was worried about now. As I reached the peak of the hill before the farm I saw an unusual orange glow flickering on the grey horizon. Adrenaline shot through me as I finally looked down on the collection of farm buildings that had been our home for five years, and took in the sight of the raging fire now consuming the large hay barn. The tall flames sparked and smoked in the rain and wind, fighting with the storm in some archaic battle of the elements. I couldn't see any sign of a fight or mercenaries in the yard, but my fear at the sight of the changeling was quickly drowned out by a white, hot protective rage stronger even than the fire threatening to destroy my Uncle's farm.

I gritted my teeth and held onto Tobias' mane as we pelted down the muddy hillside. I only hoped I wasn't too late, and that Seren was still on the farm somewhere with my Uncle, unharmed. Tobias pounded into the quickly flooding yard in a shower of mud and water, his chest heaving from exertion and fear. I leapt from his back and pushed him away from the fire; even with the torrential downpour I could still feel the heat of it from some distance. There was no one in sight, but my nerves were tingling. It wasn't safe, I knew that much. Whoever had started that blaze was still around; I strained my hearing against the buffeting wind trying to pinpoint the sound of footsteps, a gun cocking, anything.

I lowered slightly into a half crouch and crept forwards, keeping my eyes on the barn. Now I was examining the scene I could see the fire was coming from the mountains of hay inside the barn, a wall of orange and red shone out from the back of the building whilst thick, cloying smoke streamed out into the rain. I was making my way to the house when I spotted a dark shape propped up against the edge of the barn door. I paused, staring through the smoke to see if it was a dead or injured mercenary, then the shape moved, its head lolling to one side revealing a shaggy mop of dark grey hair.

My stomach dropped through my feet and I abandoned all attempts at stealth as I barrelled across the yard towards the furnace that used to be a barn and my prone Uncle.

"Uncle Rhydian." I cried desperately as I reached him, my eyes swiftly scanning his body for signs of injury. A creeping, icy hand gripped my heart as I saw the ominous dark stain spreading across his shirt from his abdomen. "No, no, no." I repeated as if my words could stop the flow of blood somehow. He raised his head at the sound of my voice, his hazel eyes dim and alarmingly glassy. I pressed my right hand on his stomach, feeling the sticky blood against my palm as I tried to physically stem the bleeding. My eyes began to sting, partly due to the acrid smoke drifting into them but also from the hot, frustrated tears that were dripping down my cheeks. He tried to sit up straighter but his face twisted in pain as his arms gave way, sending him back into a slumped position. "Stay still. Peidiwch â symud." _Don't move._ My Uncle stared up at my face, his mouth stretching into a thin line as he struggled to talk.

"Morgan, blodwyn. I couldn't...stop them." I shook my head, screwing my eyes up against the tears flooding them.

"Stop it, I'm going to get Seren then we're getting out of here. Okay?" I glanced around and spotted my Uncle's old Land Rover, parked unharmed near the house. The smoke was masking my view of the yard but there was still no movement from anywhere nearby. He dragged my attention back to him as he let out a sudden raking cough.

"I'm not going anywhere I'm afraid. The bastards blew a bloody good hole in me." I pushed my hand harder onto his abdomen, determined to contradict his statement. His muscles suddenly convulsed under my palm, and I flashed an alarmed look at him and was shocked to see he was laughing. His face fixed in an agonised half smile. "But I'll tell you what cariad. I took a fair few of them out before they got a shot at me. You'd be proud of you're old fool of an Uncle."

My eyes widened as he waved a lethargic hand to one side of him where his ancient hunting rifle was leaning against his side. I had thought that thing was a relic that he had kept for sentimental sake; I had no idea it actually worked. It was then I saw a handful of dead bodies scattered nearer the mountain of fire deeper in the barn. Uncle Rhydian saw my surprised expression and let out another shuddering chuckle. "What's the matter Morgan? Didn't think I had it in me?" A bubble of sound burst from me; a half sob half barking laugh that rang out over the roaring fire and wind.

I suddenly became aware of how hot the side of my face had become; the need to move away from the inferno started to creep into my mind. My Uncle grasped a clammy hand over the one I was pressing down uselessly on his decimated stomach, his expression suddenly deadly serious. "They're still here cariad. Mae Seren yn yr islawr." _Seren is in the basement._

I nodded, he was telling me that she was safe. He wouldn't have bothered directing me in Welsh if they had already found her. "You're going to live Rhydian Williams. Please…you have to." His face softened, the pain seeming to dissolve and he lifted his hand to gently cup my chin. I felt the icy grip on my heart squeeze tightly, a choking sob breaking free of me, as the light in his eyes grew dimmer.

"Shhhh, merch ddewr. Dim dagrau I mi." _Brave girl. No tears for me._ Regardless of his command I felt the drops leaving my eyes as I watched helplessly as another loved one slip away from me. "I did my best by you, and the little one." The sobs were coming more frequently now as my heart no longer felt icy, it was being ripped in two. He took in a rattling breath, his hand falling to his side, as his lovely, gruff voice reduced to a weak whisper. "Do not go gentle into that good night…" His voice tailed off as the light finally went out in his eyes.

I let out a cry; a garbled mixture of anger and grief. Placing my hands on either side of my dead Uncle, balled into tight fists, ignoring the lancing pain from my injured arm. I let out another feral growl just as I became aware of several advancing shadows through the smoke and heat haze. The mercenaries slunk across the yard, trying to get a clear shot of me, half concealed in the burning barn.

I felt my expression harden as my anger solidified like a stone lodged deep in my chest. With slightly trembling hands I grasped my Uncle's rifle from next to his corpse and pulled back the bolt. There was a satisfying click as it pushed a bullet into the chamber and I slowly swivelled and stood, keeping myself half hidden in the burning smoke to face my enemies. I counted eight that I could see. There was likely more, not to mention the changeling that had probably made it to the farm by now. The situation didn't look good, but I wasn't about to roll over and give up, not after everything. Not while Seren still needed me.

Still, I couldn't stop the overwhelming sense of hopelessness as I assessed my position. I was out manned, out manoeuvred, and definitely out gunned. If my Uncle had reloaded, then I had five rounds to eight mercenaries; and I was aware my skill with a gun was drastically limited compared with my skill with a bow. But with my injured arm this was my best chance, so I raised the heavy gun to eye level and gritted my teeth as I wrapped a finger round the trigger.

The mercenaries were approaching cautiously; obviously my reputation preceded me, however I wasn't about to tell them that without my forest of tricks and EMP I was practically useless in face-to-face combat. Adrenaline spiked through me as I looked down the barrel of the rifle and aimed at the closest man to me. With Seren at the forefront of my mind I gently squeezed the trigger, breathing in as I did. The rifle let out an almighty crack, and kicked back violently. I had only ever fired a pistol before and this was considerably more powerful, I took a staggering step back as the force of the shot hit me. It took me a second to regain my balance, my injured arm screaming in protest at the movement of the gun. Blinking through the smoke, I saw the mercenary I had fired at was on the ground, blood seeping into the sodden mud around him.

 _One down_ , I thought dryly, as I glanced at the seven other soldiers staring at their suddenly immobilised comrade. My heart began to thrum as the adrenaline flooded my system; pulling the bolt back with a shaking hand I pushed another round into the chamber. The mercenaries had gotten over the surprise of my sudden attack and were advancing quicker now towards the barn. I raised the rifle again and focused on the head of another soldier, but just as I was about to squeeze the trigger I heard the sound of several bullets pinging off the corrugated iron wall of the barn. I ducked back behind the door, letting out a low curse. I was going to be surrounded pretty soon and the heat of the fire was beginning to make my skin blister. The situation didn't look good, I was stuck between a burning rock and a gun wielding hard place.

The burning pain increased and I tightened my grip on the rifle as I realised I was going to have to make a break for it or risk burning alive in here. I flicked a glance down at my dead Uncle, the grief spiking harshly inside me, then I clenched my jaw in angry defiance. If I was going to go down, I was going to go like my Uncle; fighting. A swell of sadness broke through my fury at the thought of poor Seren, alone and afraid. I had done all I could for her; I had tried my best, but in the end, I was only human.

Channelling all of my grief and anger into my body, I swung round the door of the barn, stepping out into the cold storm rain, the rifle raised to eye level. Whatever the mercenaries had been expecting, it appeared a full frontal attack by their outnumbered victim was not one of them. I took down the man nearest me within seconds of exiting the burning barn, hitting him in the chest. The bolt let out a loud click as I reloaded and shot another man in the leg; he dropped down to one knee, a shocked expression on his face. My injured arm was struggling to hold the gun steady now and the next shot went wide. Reloading again I shot at the man on the floor hitting him this time in the shoulder. The force of the shot floored him completely, but I saw with a bitter stab of frustration that he was still alive. I pulled the bolt back once more but this time when I went to shoot him instead of the loud report of the rifle there was only a familiar click, as the gun signalled its spent ammo.

All of this took a matter of seconds, but it felt like an age. After desperately pulling the bolt and letting the gun click again I felt a sharp, driving pain in my lower leg, followed by a quick burst of noise from one of the mercenary's guns. I staggered to the rain soaked ground, the rifle clattering as it fell from my grasp. Looking up, squinting against the rain I saw there were now ten soldiers surrounding me. More must have emerged as I was hiding in the barn. Hopelessness overcame me, and I fought back angry, frustrated sobs as the one that had shot me walked slowly over to my crumpled figure.

Why didn't he just end it? They had been sent to kill me after all; why prolong my suffering, they had won. I glared up at the man's face blinking back my tears, I refused to cry at the end. He stared down at me, impassively, his assault rifle pointed lazily at my head. I didn't break eye contact as he pushed the barrel of it against my temple.

"Where's the girl?" Comprehension dawned on me. They wanted me to make their jobs easier before offing me. My stomach convulsed as I realised they had probably done something similar with my Uncle before I had shown up and they had hidden, leaving him to die. My mouth twisted into a nasty sneer as I continued to glare at the bored looking mercenary.

"Go fuck yourself." I spat at him. He raised his eyebrow in a bone chillingly familiar way and turned to address his comrades.

"Search the farm, if she isn't here spread out and cover the land." He returned his gaze to me as I saw the others begin to turn in different directions to search for Seren.

"You put up a good fight, like the old man. You should be proud." His tone wasn't angry or insulting, he said it in a respectful voice, almost revering. It didn't stop my stomach from turning or my heart from trying to escape through my mouth though. This was it. I had seen death coming a few times in my life, but there was no way out of this. I closed my eyes and balled my fists, scrapping my knuckles on the muddy tarmac beneath me. Let it be quick, let it be painless, let Seren be safe. I listened to the rain drumming down on the ground, the wind whistling past the buildings, the roar of the fire eating my Uncle's beloved farm and waited for the gunshot.

It came, but there was no pain. I kept my eyes shut, but nothing seemed to change, the rain was still falling, cold on my skin. Maybe this was purgatory; I opened my eyes a crack expecting to see my body lying bleeding on the ground as I floated above it. Instead the body of the mercenary who had been about to kill me fell with a thud in front of me, his eyes lifeless and glassy. There was another burst of gunfire and my eyes were suddenly wide as I stared at the scene in front of me. All ten mercenaries were down; their bodies still twitching as their lifeblood flowed from perfectly executed bullet wounds.

I could feel my own blood draining from my face, as I stared around wildly searching for my saviour. He appeared ahead of me, walking out of the grey rain. His black suit soaked through, his blue eyes the most welcome thing I had ever seen in my entire life.


	11. Chapter 10

**A/N: Thanks to all my reviewers so far, you guys are the best, your encouragement really keeps me going. As promised here is the next chapter in a more timely manner, this one was a bit of a slog. I promise you can all have a breather soon, I know the last few instalments have been a bit intense. As always, read, review and enjoy! :)**

Chapter 10

47 walked calmly over to me. The assault rifle he had used to dispatch the mercenaries held loosely in front of him. I couldn't move, my sudden rescue had sucked all the adrenaline out of me, and the lancing pain in my leg and arm were all I could think about. He stopped a few feet from me, staring down with the same impassive look my nearly killer had given me. I saw his suit had been torn in several places, and there were a few bloodstains on his white shirt.

"Can you stand?" He asked bluntly. I took a moment to adjust to what had just happened, and the assassin's unexpected intervention. Why had he come back? A niggling thought flickered at the back of my mind but I pushed it to one side as I slowly struggled to my feet. I saw 47's eyes move down to my leg, his cold, calculating gaze assessing my condition. The bullet had hit my calf; it was painful but bearable. My arm was another story, it felt like I was still holding it in the barn behind me. Fiery pain kept shooting up and down it as I held it awkwardly in front of me. The assassin's eyes moved from my leg slowly up to my arm, their ice blue irises seeming to look right through me. Despite the dire situation I still felt my cheeks flushing under his scrutiny. For fucks sake Morgan.

"What-why are you here?" I finally managed to stammer. His eyes settled on my face, his expression still blank.

"Does it matter?" I frowned slightly at his answer; I suppose he was right, still I couldn't help wondering what his motive was for returning. I let out a sigh, I was finding it hard to stay upright but it was far from over. I needed to get Seren and get out of here. Taking shaky steps forward I progressed slowly towards the house, sidestepping around the dead bodies now littered around the yard. 47 followed quietly behind, but I could sense him scanning the area for any more attackers. I was thankful he had come back; if he hadn't I would definitely be dead, however he had made it quite clear earlier that he harboured no feelings for me so why was he here risking himself?

I entered the house cautiously; there didn't seem to be any sign of forced entry. Maybe they hadn't managed to search in here yet, regardless I knew the entrance to the basement was well hidden, my Uncle had done the right thing by putting Seren down there. She must be so scared, I thought, my mind instantly taken over with images of her cowering in a dark corner. I quickened my pace, limping through the kitchen and towards the living room. I could sense 47 behind me, he was some distance away at first before I felt him advance on me and grab my shoulder.

"Morgan, careful. There may be someone in the house." I frowned, freezing under his heavy hand. Nothing seemed out of place, the house was quiet and dark. There were some cups on the table in the living room, still half full as if they had been left in a hurry. My heart squeezed at the thought of my family's panic as the alarm was tripped and they heard the sound of the explosion in the distance.

"I don't think they know where Seren is." I murmured in a low voice, my eyes now carefully scanning the shadows in the room, my ears straining to hear what 47 had heard. The assassin walked around me, I noticed then he wasn't carrying his pistol. What had happened to him?

"Where is she?" He asked without turning to face me. I could tell he was on high alert, if there was anyone here, he would find them. The thought comforted me slightly; I moved silently to his side and pointed to a heavy wooden dresser set against the wall. He didn't need an explanation; with even strides he walked over to the dresser and pushed it to one side as easily as if it were an empty box. I winced as the heavy piece of furniture squealed as it scrapped across the ancient wooden floor. He stepped back, regarding the small door he had revealed on the other side. 47 gave me a sideways look, raising his eyebrow slowly.

My nervous energy was about to spill over, I wanted to see my girl, hold her, tell her it was okay. I limped past him and opened the door, a narrow, dark stairway confronted me and I hoped I could get down the steps without going head over heels. "You certain there's someone here?" I asked in a hushed tone as I assessed my chances of not falling.

"I heard something as we came in, but whoever they are, they've gone quiet. I think they know we're here." I felt fresh adrenaline course through me as I remembered the lean, wispy figure I had seen on the hill. The prospect of facing a changeling injured and with Seren nearby almost sent me into a panic, but my rational mind finally won and I gingerly proceeded down the stairs. I dug my fingers into the rough stonewall as I descended, my knees threatened to buckle a few times but I managed not to barrel down the narrow staircase alerting whatever enemies there were nearby to our location.

The basement smelled like damp and rot, it was filled with boxes and pieces of decaying furniture that used to belong to my deceased Aunt. Uncle Rhydian found it hard to go down here much, and it was easy to overlook the quirky entrance if concealed behind a large bit of furniture. We had agreed a while ago that if anything were to happen to me, and my Uncle found himself having to defend the farm from intruders, that he use it as a safe place to keep Seren.

I let my eyes adjust to the darkness, the cold room was unnervingly quiet. "Seren?" I whispered; the low noise amplified in the silence. My heart picked up pace as panic started to overcome me again. "Seren?" I called a little louder this time. 47 had reached the foot of the stairs with me, his tall, powerful presence seeming to ooze calm.

"Over there." He muttered in his smooth voice. I turned, staring in the direction he was facing and saw a small shadow huddled behind a tower of boxes. Her pale skin let off a faint glow in the gloom, her blue eyes as vivid and piercing as her other half's.

"Seren." I breathed in relief as I shuffled towards her as fast as I could. The shadow unfurled itself and dashed towards me; her warm body collided with my bruised and broken form. Despite the pain I wrapped my injured arm around her, hugging her to me tightly. I could feel she was shaking as she clung onto me, any other time I would have told her she was clutching me too hard but today we clung to each other desperately. It wasn't until she looked up at me in alarm that I realised I was crying, the stress and despair I had been feeling rushing out of me at the sight of her safe and unharmed.

"Ma, beth sy'n bod?" _Ma, what's wrong?_ I pulled her head into me, leaning down to bury my nose in her hair.

"It's okay cariad. I'm here." I let the feel of her beating heart calm my nerves. Eventually I felt her shift as she peered around me to stare at 47. Releasing her slightly I saw he was looking back up the stairs, his blue eyes appearing to shine in the dark. Seren tensed at the sight of him and I kept a protective arm around her as I turned to face the assassin.

"We need to go." He spoke in a quiet voice, his gaze never leaving the exit to the basement. My stomach tightened in fear; something was wrong, I could see it in his stance. He flicked a sideways glance at me when I didn't respond and I simply nodded, my mouth set in a thin, determined line. He was right, it was time to leave this place. Softening my features, I knelt down with a bit of trouble, my calf protesting greatly. Looking into Seren's eyes I gripped her shoulders, forcing my voice to stay calm and soothing.

"We have to go now cariad. We have to leave the farm ok?" Her eyes widened slightly, a mixture of fear and excitement in them. She was finally going to get her wish, I had just hoped it would be under different, less violent circumstances. "And Uncle Rudy? Is he coming?" I blanched at the mention of my recently deceased Uncle. This wasn't the time or the place to explain what had happened, but I knew she would figure it out on her own soon enough. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes briefly, summoning the strength to not break down in front of her.

"Uncle Rud-Uncle Rhydian won't be coming with us I'm afraid Seren." Her brow furrowed as she looked at me, perplexed.

"Why not?" Her innocent question sent a stab of grief through my heart. Today had started out so normal, and now here I was trying to describe the concept of death to a child who had barely seen the world.

"I'm afraid he's gone Seren. He was very brave and kept you safe from the bad men, but he couldn't manage on his own. I'm sorry." I watched in helpless horror as realisation dawned in her face, she began to shake her head furiously.

"No, he's okay, you're lying. He said he'd come back to get me. He promised!" Her voice became thin and desperate, and I could feel the prick of tears at the corner of my eyes as a lump formed in my throat. Seren's own eyes began to fill with tears as she defiantly continued to shake her head. I attempted to swallow the lump and comfort her but I struggled to find the right words.

47 watched this whole exchange from a distance, his arms by his side, the assault rifle still clasped loosely in one hand. I gave him a wary look as he slowly walked over to us, his face impassive as always. Seren clocked his approach and locked her gaze on him, suspicion clouding her tearful eyes. 47 regarded the girl calmly for a moment as she lowered her brow and began to glare up at him.

"Your…mother isn't lying. Crying won't help, we have to go now." He spoke calmly, and in a matter-of-fact tone. A shocked look came over my face as I digested his abrupt, unforgiving words. I wondered absently why he had stumbled on the word mother then raised my eyebrows in further surprise as after a brief moment of staring the intimidating assassin down, Seren nodded once then walked of her own accord towards the door. A horrible thought entered my head as I watched 47 join the child at the base of the stairs; had she responded to his blunt command because she was aware of the danger or because she had been genetically made to?

I tried to shake the nagging doubt as I joined Seren and 47, taking the girl's hand automatically. "Wait." Seren cried out suddenly, making both of us jump. She was looking into the corner of the basement where the shadows were too dark to make anything out. I saw 47's eyebrow rise as he saw something and I desperately squinted at the gloom, eventually a small, stooped shadow detached itself as it trotted towards us, tail wagging. My heart swelled a little at the sight of the old sheep dog, he came to an obedient stop in front of Seren and me. I felt the lump rise again as I realised my Uncle had left Gelert down here to protect Seren if, god forbid, they had found her before me.

"Ready?" I managed to choke out, looking down at the girl. She nodded, not taking her eyes off the dog. 47 led the way, walking silently up the stairs. How did he do it? No matter how carefully I tread I couldn't stop each step from emitting a faint squeaking sound. Seren tiptoed lightly up beside me, making even less noise than the assassin, if that was even possible. I comforted myself by remembering I had a gunshot wound to one leg and had lost a lot of blood from my arm.

We paused at the top as 47 scanned the living room, I watched his broad shoulders blocking the light from above. Just the size of him was enough to make me feel like we might actually have a chance of escape here. I couldn't help feeling a stab of chagrin and annoyance at the thought that alone I wouldn't have managed. I squeezed Seren's hand protectively, as if reasserting my parental role. Once satisfied 47 moved smoothly out of the way, letting Seren, Gelert and me into the room.

"I can't hear anything, but stay close. My car is just outside the yard." He spoke in a low voice but I could still sense the cold, calculating killer in his tone. I pulled Seren to my side and positioned myself behind the assassin, I gave the cosy living room a furtive look; this would probably be the last time I stood in here. My gaze travelled to the now empty spot above the fireplace, where my Uncle's hunting rifle had been displayed.

I was pulled from my sad thoughts as 47 began to walk back through the house towards the kitchen, the rifle now raised in his hands. I tried my hardest to walk quietly behind, but my injured leg kept dragging along the wooden floorboards. It wasn't loud, but it was noisy enough that 47 treated me to an icy stare as we reached the familiar country kitchen. _What,_ I mouthed in silent protest at him but before he could reprimand me further for my clumsiness Gelert let out a ferocious snarl, making all the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

47's brow furrowed as he quickly scanned the room, but his sweep was interrupted by the back door flying open letting in a swirling torrent of freezing rain. We all stared out into the storm; I noticed the light from the fire was fading slightly. Only a dim halo of orange lit the yard outside, the rain still acting as a smokescreen for whoever had just kicked the door open. The assault rifle in 47's hands was pointed squarely at the exit, and I watched as his whole body tensed as the outline of a person drifted into vision, or was it just the storm?

"Stay here." He murmured over his shoulder, before slowly edging outside, gun raised. I felt myself tense up, adrenaline heightening my senses as I strained to hear anyone approaching. I pulled Seren to me tightly as the assassin's black silhouette became obscured by the rain. Silence pressed in on me, my heart thumping as I waited for the sound of gunfire. If we were ambushed now I was pretty much useless, although I was aware 47 was used to that, I after five years of self-preservation, was not.

The harsh, rapid retort of the assault rifle made me jump and I scanned the kitchen for a weapon that was better than my bow. My eyes landed on a large knife and quietly I shuffled us both over to it, sliding it out of the knife block with my right hand. It felt awkward and heavy in my non-dominant hand, but it was better than nothing. There was a pause in the gunfire and I hoped it was 47's gun that had had the last word. I was staring out into the grey rain when Gelert's growl kicked up a notch, and my stomach dropped in despair as a second later a mercenary materialised out of the storm, his rifle pointed directly at my face.

Fear spiked through my blood as thoughts of 47 lying in the mud outside flashed through my head. Then Seren's small hand gripping my ruined shirt brought my attention back to the perilous situation I again found myself in. Shifting the kitchen knife in my clumsy hand, I prepared to launch it at the mercenary's face. Several things seemed to happen simultaneously in that brief moment of calm that precedes a fight; a dark shadow loomed behind the mercenary as I drew my arm back and he tightened his finger on the trigger, the shadow wrapped an arm around the man's throat making his eyes pop in alarm. Instinctually, the trained soldier brought his rifle up to strike his assailant in the head; I winced as the gun connected with 47 with a loud thud. I remained fixed in position, the knife raised, unsure whether I should throw the it in in case I hit 47 by accident. The two of them began to wrestle and I could feel uncertain panic begin to take over as I stood uselessly in the middle of the kitchen.

A streak of brown and grey fur suddenly flew past my face as Gelert launched himself at the struggling mercenary. 47 must have seen the dog's unexpected attack at the last moment, as he mercifully withdrew his arm from around the man's neck just as Gelert sank his teeth into it. The mercenary let out an agonised, gurgling scream and clawed at the enraged animal helplessly. I stared, open-mouthed, as my Uncle's loyal, kind-hearted sheepdog savaged the man in front of us. Twisting his head from side to side viciously as he tore great chunks of the man's throat out, blood covering his muzzle.

I was vaguely aware of 47 watching the grisly scene playing out with that same muted look of surprise. It took me several moments to break out of my shock and revulsion seized my stomach as the man's screams grew fainter. "Gelert, yma! Nawr!" My voice sounded more confident than I felt. I fully expected the dog to ignore me, so focused was his attack on the man who had threatened his home. Miraculously my harsh tone cut through his incensed rage, and he instantly dropped the mercenary's decimated throat, dashing obediently to my side. I stared down at the dog, a slight look of horror on my face as I took in his now scarlet face.

47 wiped the rain and blood from his eyes with the back of his arm, I registered he had a nasty cut on his forehead from the gun now. Seren was still clinging to my side after the bloody battle and I glanced at her in concern. The small girl looked up at me, her eyes wide but there was not the same shocked, terror I was sure was etched on my face. She seemed calm, almost determined.

"Morgan, lets go. I can hear more of them coming." I tore my gaze away from Seren and nodded numbly. Up until that point my brain had been slowly shutting down, flinching away from the trauma and pain I had experienced in a short space of time. But as I moved to leave the farmhouse, it sparked to life briefly prompting me to prise Seren from my side and limp quickly to the chest of drawers in the hallway outside the kitchen.

"Morgan, leave everything. We have to go." I could hear the barely concealed annoyance in 47's voice as he called after me, but I ignored him as I rummaged in the messy drawers searching for something. After pushing aside a number of bills and letters from the bank, my hand closed on something hard and rectangular. Triumphantly I pulled the phone from the draw and stowed it safely in my back pocket. Returning to the kitchen I purposefully ignore 47's disapproving stare and grabbed Seren's hand again. A shiver ran up my spine as I took in Gelert's macabre appearance and gave her a reassuring smile. At least I thought it was reassuring.

"Okay?" I asked her quietly. She nodded, that unnervingly calm expression still on her face. Without looking too hard at the brutalised mercenary's corpse, I stepped around it and walked towards 47. He didn't say anything, simply turning and walking back out into the rain. I hunched my shoulders as the cold water hit me, sheltering Seren as best I could against me. The yard looked empty, I noted there were a few more bodies than when I entered the house but the worst appears to have past. I could already feel my body growing weary from all the excitement and blood loss, I forced it to continue as I followed the assassin's striding form through the storm.

As we passed the barn I made sure Seren's face was angled away from it, Uncle Rhydian's body still resting against the door, his pale face shining in the dim light. The fire had shrunk, losing its battle against the rain. Relief washed over me, at least his farm wouldn't be completely wiped out thanks to me. Our rag tag group slowly made its way across the yard and out to where the Audi was parked. As we passed the stables I glanced behind at the place I had called home for five years, the only place Seren had known. She turned as well, but I distracted her by squeezing her arm before she could get a good look at the carnage left behind.

Suddenly 47 came to a stop in front of us, and with my attention on the girl in my arms I nearly collide with his solid back. I frowned up at him though the rain, but before I could shoot a sharp tongued question at him I see his expression and my body instantly started looking for the danger. His eyes are two blue shards of ice, his mouth was set in a thin, tense line. Wariness flowing off of him in waves and finally my slow senses catch up with his, and I see the teenage girl stood in front of his car.

Her blonde hair was plastered against her face, the clothes she was wearing not suited for Welsh weather. She looked like a normal girl, her thin arms and lean body looking like they had no power behind them. She was stood unnaturally still, her glassy blue eyes boring into us. Not looking at any of us in particular, but at the same time watching all of us. She had that vacant look that signalled she was a changeling, not just any run-of-the-mill teenager. Her expression was blank, her eyes distant and unreadable, but I knew she was more alert than me certainly, maybe even than 47.

He shifted next to me, and the girl's eyes locked onto him instantly. I was surprised he had lost the human statue competition, then I realised he had probably moved to draw the child assassin's attention away from Seren and I. She had frozen in my arms as well, her blue eyes watching the other girl worriedly. I didn't know what to do; I had gone from being her protector to being a dead weight. I was absolutely no use against a changeling when I could barely manage a group of mercenaries.

I wasn't sure how long we all stood like this, the freezing rain soaking through my clothes again making me shiver. Eventually the blonde girl tilted her head in a nauseatingly creepy way. "Hand over the girl and the woman, and you can go." Her voice was deeper than I expected; it still had the high strains of youth, but it was more mature than a young teenager's voice should be. She was talking to 47, and he responded by mimicking her head movement, his eyes narrowing.

"You know I'm not going to do that." His voice was low and menacing, a complete contrast to the changeling's. It was bizarre watching the young girl stare unflinchingly at the intimidating assassin, I got the feeling she was aware of every tiny detail around her even though her eyes were locked on the man next to me. She didn't respond to him for a moment, continuing her silent stare off. Then, to my horror she turned her attention to Seren and I, her filmy blue eyes boring into my skull.

I was aware of Gelert's soft growl behind me and my whole body tensed preparing to bolt at the first sign of movement. There was no way I would out run her, but Seren might and I could at least slow her down. These thoughts flashed through my mind, as I remained fixed in place by the changeling's hypnotic stare. The spell was broken as she abruptly disappeared from view, I blinked in confusion until I realised instead of staring at the blonde teenager in front of 47's car, I was now staring at his back. The assassin had smoothly sidestepped in front of me, blocking my view of the girl and her view of us.

A great swell of affection gripped me as I looked up at 47, I could see his profile, his expression still a blank mask but I could have sworn I saw a glint of menace in those glacial blue eyes. He tilted his head again, this time to face me slightly. He fixed me with a pointed stare and without really registering how I knew, I understood what he was about to do. I gripped Seren's hand tighter and prepared myself, this was really going to hurt my injured arm and leg but another does of adrenaline was already rushing through me, assisting my tired limbs, pushing me to keep fighting.

47 turned his full attention back to the changeling, I had no idea if he had come across one before but judging from his next move I guessed he had not. He raised the rifle and fired three quick shots at the girl's feet; unlike a normal person the changeling didn't react to the shots by stepping back or flinching, instead she launched herself at 47 with blinding speed. Surprise flashed across his face briefly before he reacted, and with equal quickness slammed the butt of the rifle into the changeling's face. This took only a matter of seconds so I was still stood behind him when the child assassin collided with him. I took in a sharp breath and forced my legs to move as fast as possible towards the car, dragging Seren behind me.

I reached the Audi without feeling the small, strong hands of the changeling on me. Whirling round I caught a glimpse of 47 striding towards the girl, there was a large smear of blood on her forehead but no gash from the blow he had dealt her. My stomach clenched awfully as I watched him moved towards the deadly child, he really had no idea, did he.

"Quick, get in." I gasped at Seren, as I yanked open the passenger side door of the car and ushered her in. Her blue eyes were wide as she stared at the six-foot man advancing on the slim, four-foot girl. Once I was sure she was in I slammed the door and dithered unsure what to do. I didn't want to just watch 47 potentially get hurt, or killed but I couldn't get my brain to give me any ideas. It had been luck that had saved me the last time I face off against a changeling, and this time I had no way of escaping without 47. I couldn't drive in my present condition, and I was pretty sure I was another few minutes away from collapsing, but he was currently trying to knock the girl out with his rifle again.

It dawned on me that he could have shot the girl a thousand times already, but he was getting dangerously close in an attempt to subdue her. He wasn't trying to kill her. Confusion slowed the adrenaline in me, what was he doing? Didn't he know what she was capable of? The last time I had been lucky I still had the software on hand to disable the chip lodge in their brain, otherwise I would have ended up…The chip, of course!

I scrambled for the phone I had stashed in my back pocket as 47 hit the girl again with his rifle. This time as the gun connected with her forehead, I saw clearly the deep gash the sharp metal edge of it sliced in her. She didn't go down, she merely twisted to one side to deflect the blow slightly, and as she turned back to face 47 I watched with fascinated dread as her flesh slowly knitted itself back together before my eyes. I saw his eyes widen in unconcealed astonishment; no, he had definitely not fought one of these before.

I squelched forward in the dense mud a few steps to get a better signal, holding my mobile carefully in my hand to shield it from the rain. It gave a cheery ping as I turned it on after so many years, the screen emitting a harsh blue light. The changeling's attention snapped to me, and I watched numbly as she tried to race towards me. Before she could get any momentum however, 47 dropped the rifle and wrapped a strong arm around her neck. I saw him stagger forward a few paces as she tried to drag him with her, her strength evident when pitted against the superhuman hitman. If he had been an ordinary man she would have pulled him clean off his feet, but mercifully he held her, although his expression was strained as he looked wildly over her head at me.

"Morgan, get in the car!" He bellowed at me, evidently struggling to hold her back. I ignored his command and quickly scrolled through my ancient mobile, looking for the programme I had made five years ago somewhere in Romania. The changeling's eyes blazed as she doubled her efforts, her gaze firmly locked on my phone. Did she know what I was trying to do?

I tapped hurriedly on the icon and waited impatiently for it to open. Come on! The girl let out an inhuman scream and jerked her whole body forward and down, causing the assassin clinging on to her to lose his balance. My blood ran cold as my time ran out, the changeling's face was twisted into a grimace of fury as she righted herself and barrelled towards me. Involuntarily I took in a breath as I prepared for her assault, 47 looking on bewildered in the background. She reached out her hands to grab at my face then my vision of her was blocked once more with a mass of shaggy brown and grey fur.

For the second time that evening Gelert leapt to my rescue, all snarling fangs and flashing eyes. The surprise of the animal's attack threw the girl off balance, but only for a second. He tore at her face and arms, chunks of flesh flying everywhere. But with each slab of flesh he removed from her, it almost instantly replaced itself leaving only the tell tale trails of blood to show there had been an injury at all.

I tried to swallow the bile in my throat as I kept my finger hovering over the touch screen. Waiting for my signal that the programme was ready. A desperate feeling convulsed in my chest as I watched the heroic sheepdog continue his fight, regardless of its hopelessness. The scene seemed to take on a surreal quality as my phone finally lit up green, the changeling kept her eyes on me as the dog attached to her chest continued to tear at her flesh. In what felt like slow motion she wrapped her thin arms around the sheepdog's torso and with a wicked smile squeezed, hard. I heard the sickening crunch of bones and the high pitched, agonised yelp that Gelert let out before I saw his body bow in half and go limp in the girl's deadly grasp.

47 had recovered from his brief moment of shock and was advancing on the changeling from behind. I stared numbly at her as she dropped my dear friend's dead body in front of me, an almost gloating expression on her face. My eyes hardened as she made to stride towards me, my mouth twisting into a sneer as I pressed down on the phone's screen. Her eyes cleared for a moment, then her mouth went slack and her body froze like I had tasered her. She fell backwards into the mud with a loud sucking sound and I collapsed to my knees in a daze.

"Morgan." 47's voice was tinged with concern as he reached me. I couldn't respond; my body had finally reached its limit. I had lost too much and suffered enough for one day. As if from a distance I heard his exasperated sigh, then was aware of him lifting me up out of the mud and opening the passenger door. "Watch out." He commanded Seren in his smooth, unruffled tone.

The Audi's interior swam into view as he buckled me in and I felt Seren clamber onto my lap. The door closed and I sat still as the small child clung to my shirtfront, burrowing her head into my chest. I felt something hard and angular digging into me, and as 47 got in and sat next to me I slowly uncurled Seren's hand to look at the small book she had clasped there.

"What have you got?" I asked, my voice slurring with weariness. She looked at me, abashed and whispered worriedly.

"Don't be mad. It's Uncle Rudy's bedtime book. He said I could have it when I was waiting for him." My vision became more impaired as the tears welled up in my eyes. It was all too much, too quickly. This morning I had been checking the perimeter like everyday, now I was bruised, beaten and muddy attempting to escape the smoking wreck of my home. My Uncle was dead, so was my dog, and I wasn't sure I could keep Seren from a similar fate anymore. Not out there.

I closed my hand over book and gave Seren a wobbly smile. "I'm not mad cariad. He would have wanted you to keep it." She smiled shyly back and I held her gaze as the Audi roared to life.

"Sit in the back." My brain felt like it was walking through treacle, but I was aware 47 was talking to Seren. The car began to move and she tightened her grip on me stubbornly.

"No. I'm sitting here." His disapproval was palpable, but he didn't argue and swung the car around to head down the track away from the farm. My stomach muscles clenched as I felt the speed at which he was racing along the bumpy dirt road.

"Slow down. You'll crash." I muttered lethargically, there was no energy to even turn my head to face him.

"We're being chased." His clipped tone and blunt words prodded my weary brain into consciousness. Chased? Still? Hadn't we killed enough of them? Seren curled into me as 47 increased his speed. We would reach the forest in a matter of minutes at this rate, and then be through the barrier before we knew it.

Barrier. My heart stuttered and I was suddenly wide-awake. How long had it been? Twenty minutes, half an hour, an hour? Too long, the EMP would be back up for sure. "Wait! Stop!" I yelled, my voice cracking from the strain. The ink black shadow of the forest loomed ahead out of the still raging storm. 47's head snapped towards me at my panicked cry.

"Why?" He didn't slow, he didn't even flinch, he kept on powering towards the road cutting though the trees at an alarming rate.

"The EMP, please 47. We can't!" Seren was sensing my panic too now and stared up at me, her expression finally one of terror. I was growing infuriated with the assassin as his brow creased slowly in confusion, he returned his attention to the road. What was he not getting? "Stop!" I screamed as I could now distinguish the individual tree trunks.

Faintly I sensed the presence of other vehicles behind us, but they didn't matter anymore. All that mattered was keeping Seren away from that forest. 47 pushed the car faster, until the trees were rushing at us like a tsunami. "47, no! Please stop!" My voice was raw as I shouted at the top of my voice just as we disappeared into the tree line. I braced my hand on the dashboard as if to block the unknown effects of the EMP and held Seren to me desperately.


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The darkness of the forest pressed in from all sides but still we sped on, bouncing on the stony road. My whole body froze in horror, my expression fixed as I stared down at my daughter in my arms. She convulsed violently as we entered the forest, as if she had hit an invisible wall. Then her head had lolled back, a thin trickle of blood escaping her nose as she stared blankly up at the roof. Lifeless.

"Seren! No!" My scream sound disjointed, inhuman to my ears. A panicked grief I had never experienced before swept through me and I shook her, she didn't respond. "You bastard! I told you to stop, why didn't you?!" 47 stared impassively ahead, seemingly unaffected by my fury. This only added fuel to the fire and I clenched my hand into a tight fist and made to swing at him. Without hesitating he lifted one hand off the wheel and caught my hand before it landed, his iron grip squeezing my fingers painfully. I snatched it back and glared icily at him, the girl still held uselessly in my arms.

"She isn't dead." He answered simply. My fury was halted, and I blinked at him in disbelief.

"What?" Finally he turned his head to look at me, his eyes calmly regarding mine.

"She isn't dead." He repeated his answer slowly as if talking to a child, my smouldering anger flared briefly. "She's unconscious." I felt my muscles relaxing as his words washed over me, he turned back to look out the windscreen, driving down the narrow road at high speed.

I looked down at Seren and slowly laid my head on her chest. With a sigh of relief I felt the faint flutter of her heart against my cheek and hugged to me, rocking her unconscious form gently. A thought suddenly cut through my moment of peace, and I looked up at 47, frowning.

"How did you know it would knock her out?" Before he could answer, I felt the car jerk dramatically to the side and I grabbed the door handle to steady myself. He had swerved to avoid a large crater that had reduced the narrow road though the forest to nothing. We were now bouncing through the undergrowth, deftly manoeuvring around the tree trunks. I twisted in my seat to look behind as a loud crash signalled one of the pursuing vehicles had failed to spot the large ditch in time.

His hands were clenched tightly on the steering wheel as he negotiated the less than ideal path we were now on. There was still one more vehicle attempting to follow us, and I gripped onto Seren tightly aware she wasn't wearing a seat belt. 47's expression was one of intense concentration, and once again I found myself unable to assist, simply sitting there entrusting mine and Seren's life to him. He continued to drive at high speed, missing the broken trees and rocks by inches. Even so the pursuing car crept ever closer and I was certain we would be killed in a car crash, after all we'd been through.

47 jack-knifed the car suddenly and steered back onto the now intact road. I turned in my seat to stare in dismay as the car behind copied the move but a nanosecond later. The loud explosion made me scream in surprise, and I stared open mouthed as the mercenaries' car was thrown up in the air like a toy, along with earth and bits of nearby tree. They had driven over an unexploded land mine.

I turned back to face 47, my eyes wide with shock. "Did you know that was there?" I asked incredulously. He flicked a sideways glance at me, his expression unreadable. I shook my head, unable to adjust to this man's enigmatic nature again. He slowed the Audi slightly as we continued on the now clear road, heading out of the forest. I could already see what was left of the trees beginning to thin.

"I saw a changeling when I was returning to the farm." His unexpected answer took me aback for a moment. Then I fixed him with a pointed stare, urging him to elaborate. His eyes took in my expectant look and he let out a barely audible sigh. "I ran into some mercenaries as I was driving back through the forest, I dealt with them and saw an unconscious child on the outskirts of the trees." I nodded slowly. Obviously one had tried to enter the forest, testing the defences. 47 snorted suddenly making me jump, I saw his mouth twist up at the corner in the shadow of a smile. "I must say, that self-destruct of yours certainly was effective." He turned his head to face me full on, his mouth lifting into a half smile. "You very nearly got me."

My stomach dropped at his statement, I had nearly killed the person responsible for my escape. More than that, I could have killed the man I…Quickly I cut the thought off; dwelling on what might have been wasn't going to help me.

"Sorry." I mumbled, not sure how else to respond. The smile widened briefly before it vanished without a trace.

"You weren't to know I was here." He turned back to driving just as we exited the forest finally, appearing out into the open scrubland. The rain was easing now, but it still hammered on the roof of the car, creating a soothing sound that calmed me. The light had all but gone, I could still make out the deep purple shadows of the mountains in the distance, the barren expanse of the scrubland stretching on, the road winding down into the valley towards town. I sat back, the energy leaving me almost instantly. My arm and leg were in dire need of attention, but I was struggling to keep my eyes open.

I still hadn't had time to process all the emotions I had felt today; I was leaving the farm. The forest that had protected us receding into the distance, I hadn't gone far from its perimeter in five years and I was uncertain what I would now find in the outside world. How much had it changed?

"It's okay Morgan. I'll take us somewhere safe." There was a surprising gentleness to 47's voice as he sensed my unease. His calm, soothing tone mixing seamlessly with the sound of the rain, and the thrum of the old petrol engine. I held Seren's warm body to me tightly, a talisman of the life I had made here. Gradually I succumbed, letting the steady beat of her heart lull me into a deep and disturbed sleep.

…

I woke with a start as a hand carefully shook my shoulder. It was now night time, but the usual oppressive darkness I had grown used to in the bleak countryside was illuminated by a dirty orange glow. The trees and fields had given way to pavements and tall buildings, and I blinked up at 47 as I tried to come to terms with my unfamiliar surroundings.

We were parked in front of what looked like a hotel. I wasn't sure where we were, how long had we been driving, were we still in Wales? He must have noticed my dazed and confused expression, as he knelt down so his head was level with mine in the car. I noticed with a stab of relief that Seren was still in my arms, her eyes now closed, her breathing deep.

"We're in Cardiff Morgan. Can you walk?" His voice was low, that uncharacteristic gentleness still there. I tested my legs underneath Seren's weight, my calf was still agonisingly painful, but I could move it fine. Turning back to the assassin knelt beside me I nodded slowly. He regarded me sceptically for a moment, before sighing and straightening up. "Good, because I'm not sure I should carry you in your current condition."

He held his arms out and with slight trepidation I transferred Seren's sleeping form to him. I snatched my arm back quickly as sharp pain lanced up my elbow from my knife wound. The girl didn't stir but 47 paused, eyeing my grimace pragmatically. "Come on." He commanded, gesturing towards the hotel with his head. Gripping the doorframe I eased myself slowly to my feet, my knees threatened to give way but I sucked in a steadying breath and eventually righted myself.

47 started to move towards the hotel entrance, Seren cradled in his slightly outstretched arms. It was as if he didn't want too much of the child touching him, I felt a twinge of sadness at the sight. The hotel foyer was posh, and for the first time in a very long time I suddenly felt really out of place. My tattered and torn work shirt was nearly hanging off me, I was covered in mud and bruises and probably looked like I had been sleeping on the streets. 47 wasn't much better, although he still managed to exude a sense of belonging and authority that made the receptionist sit up.

The immaculate blonde stared wide eyed at the tall handsome man holding the sleeping girl in his arms, I could see her taking in his slightly dishevelled appearance but she still plastered a wide smile on her face. "Welcome to the St David's hotel, how can I help you sir?" Her smile faltered as she caught sight of me, struggling to stand behind him. A look of disgust crossed her face before 47 drew her attention back to him with his clipped, cold tone.

"I'd like a family room please, and I'd like to pay in cash." Her eyes widened at his remark, evidently people weren't in the habit of paying in cash at this hotel. As I scanned the expensive marble floor and cavernous reception area I knew why. This place was pricey.

"Ce-certianly sir." She stuttered taking in 47's no nonsense expression. She began tapping away furiously at her keyboard and I zoned out, my head still not right from my ordeal. I swayed uncertainly in the middle of the empty foyer, a large, ornate clock on one wall stated it was one in the morning. 47 finished with the receptionist and appeared at my side, he looked down at me, his eyes worried.

"You okay?" I frowned, taken aback by his gentle concern for me. He watched me carefully for a moment, and when I didn't reply he walked towards the lift. I limped after him, hoping there was a decent bed in this room, I wasn't sure I could stay upright for much longer.

The room he had bought was on the top floor, it looked out over the bay at the edge of the city, the dark water juxta-posed with the twinkling lights of the shore. There was a large double bed and a single bed set against one wall. The assassin moved across the plush carpet and placed Seren on the smaller bed with reserved care. I stumbled sleepily towards the other and landed with very little grace onto it. My brain was already trying to shut down again; my injuries protesting loudly even after that relatively short trip. With all the emotions swirling around me I just wanted to curl up and sleep for a month, but before I could drift off my body jerked awake at the feel of 47's hands on my shoulders. He lifted me slowly upright so I was sat facing him, his face was level with mine again as he gently took off my ruined boots.

"You have to stay awake a little longer Morgan. I need to tend to these wounds." His voice was still soft, but there was a commanding edge to it now. I blinked at him stupidly as he sat back on his heels and watched me expectantly. It took me a second to realise he wanted me to take off the rest of my clothes, and I instantly turned the exact same shade of his blood stained tie. 47 continued to stare at me, un-phased by my reaction to his unspoken request. I wasn't sure I was prepared to do this right now, but then I remembered he had already done it himself in the past, the last time he had saved me from certain death.

With uneasy, halting movements I undid the buttons on my shirt and avoiding his gaze attempted to slide it down my shoulders. My left arm seized up in stubborn pain and I winced as I found myself bound by my own shirt, unable to move my arms any further. Feeling about two inches tall and completely humiliated and flicked a shy glance at 47.

"Can you…can you help me?" Without hesitating he leant up off his heels and gently pulled the shirt off me. He untied my makeshift bandage from around my left arm slowly, and threw the soiled bit of material to one side. Mercifully I was wearing a grubby top underneath my shirt so was spared any real embarrassment. However, this wasn't going to be the case for the next piece of clothing. I managed to undo my jeans but needed his help pulling them off my legs. I hissed in pain as I tried to support myself on my injured arm, and nearly missed the stoic assassin's dipped gaze and slightly embarrassed expression as he removed the jeans for me. I sat awkwardly on the expensive bedding, blood and mud staining my skin, my arm sporting an angry red gash, a bloody, livid hole in one of my calves. I clasped my hands on my bare legs, hoping this would be over fast.

With both my injuries exposed 47 switched to his familiar, efficient self. Busying himself with a small box placed to one side of him that seemed to be filled with medical equipment. Taking out a number of disinfecting wipes he gripped my left arm lightly and moved it so he could see the cut clearly.

"This is going to need stiches." He commented blandly as he wiped away the congealed blood and dirt around the wound. The sting of the alcohol made me grit my teeth, but I nodded and spoke through them in a small voice.

"I know. I did the best I could under the circumstances." His blue eyes flicked from my arm to my face, and I instantly felt that odd sense of calm he always managed to invoke in me.

"I know you did, I'm just warning you." He returned his gaze to the task in hand and finished cleaning the wound. We fell into a tense silence as he prepared the suture kit for my arm. Our last proper conversation had ended with me crying in the rain and him leaving. In any other circumstances with any other person, I would have confronted the issue head on, but this was a man who hadn't been built to deal with emotions and right now I just wanted to forget everything I had just witnessed.

His grip tightened infinitesimally as he brought the suture needle up to the bone deep gash on my arm. "I don't have any anaesthetic." He muttered apologetically. I said nothing, just giving him a stony stare as he inserted the needle into my flesh. My whole body tensed at the sharp sensation next to my wound; the needle prick wasn't the worst part of it though, the drawn out, uncomfortable feeling of the thread sliding through the hole it had just made was worse.

47 resolutely ignored my expression of pain as he continued to neatly stitch my skin back together. After a while I grew somewhat accustomed to the unpleasant sensation, and watched him as he worked. He was certainly adept at stitching a wound, his hands moved quickly, his eyes too pinpricks of concentration. My mind began to wander looking at this strange man who had changed my life so much and saved me in so many ways. Eventually the urge to talk was too great, I had to get some answers, I was owed that much.

"So why did you come back?" My question made his hands slow as they tied off the thread. Completing his task he lifted his head to fix me with his oh so familiar impassive stare. He didn't answer straight away, but I refused to back down keeping my eyes locked on his. Finally he let out a quiet, exasperated sigh and put the needle to one side.

"I forgot how persistent you are." His voice was definitely annoyed, but I detected a hint of fondness somewhere in his words. I raised an eyebrow, mocking him as he sat back on his heels again, regarding me coolly. At first I thought he was stubbornly refusing to answer me, then as he furrowed his brow I realised he was thinking about his answer. This was a first; 47 usually didn't need to delve too deep to relay what he wanted to say. He had always been a man of few words, but all of them were confident and to the point. The assassin's expression finally lightened and too my utter astonishment he looked almost afraid as he responded. "I couldn't leave you to die…again."

My heart clenched painfully at his words, hope bloomed deep down inside me but I was wiser than that. I was still grieving my old life after what this man had done to me, and now I had lost yet more loved ones because of him. There had been moments during our time together where I had hoped, like now, he actually cared about me but then the reality hit home. He was not made to feel, like the changeling we had encountered he was made for one thing and I was certainly not the person to change that. What he was expressing was likely guilt over abandoning his colleague, not a confession of any kind of feelings for me.

I blinked at him then looked away, unable to stomach his vulnerable expression any longer. I felt him shift forward again as his hands grasped my leg, pulling it towards him gently. There was a new tense atmosphere between us after 47's words, it felt odd somehow, like I had distanced myself a little from the killer knelt in front of me. He quietly assessed my leg, then began cleaning it like my arm. I closed my eyes, still keeping my face turned away as he wiped the area around the bullet wound.

"I'm going to have to extract the bullet from your leg Morgan." I watched warily as he reached into the box next to him and brought out a pair of long metal tweezers. "Try not to move." I felt my body pump fresh adrenaline through me, anticipating the pain as he slowly lowered the tweezers over the gaping hole in my calf. It was worse than being stitched back together; I could feel the cold metal of the tweezers pushing my flesh aside as they slide inch by inch into the wound. I kept my body as still as I could, screwing my eyes shut and gritting my teeth until I was sure they would break under the strain.

Once more, 47 didn't react to my obvious discomfort, the pain intensified as he reached the bullet lodged in my calf, moving the tweezers around to grip it firmly. Even though I was looking away I could feel every tiny movement he made as he pulled the foreign object out of my body. The pain reached a crescendo as he yanked the bullet free; I heard the clatter as he deposited it somewhere near him. A sharp, persistent throbbing replaced the nauseating pain of having a bullet extracted, I slowly opened my eyes, gingerly glancing at my damaged calf.

47 was bent over it, wiping away the fresh blood escaping from the wound and preparing the suture kit once more. I let out a shaky sigh as I struggled to fight back exhausted tears. I just wanted to sleep. He must have heard me as he looked up, needle in hand, his blue eyes regarding me warily.

"You okay?" I was finding it hard to get used to this suddenly conscientious killer in front of me. I shrugged awkwardly, blinking the betraying tears away quickly.

"I've gotten good at dealing with pain." The assassin looked at me for a moment, as if assessing my answer, then wordlessly turned back to my leg. Thankfully, this wound was smaller, so the uncomfortable process of stitching it up was over quicker than the last time. 47 neatly tied off the thread and wrapped two gauze bandages tightly around my calf and arm before putting the medical supplies away. He straightened up and tossed a small cardboard box at me, it landed with a soft thump on the bed. My brow furrowed in confusion as I picked up the pack of ibuprofen. He paused briefly, taking in my quizzical expression.

"They'll help you rest." He murmured in a low voice, as he shrugged out of his ruined suit jacket and loosened his tie. I scanned the cleanly tended wounds on my arm and leg, my heart swelling with affection against my better judgement. I watched him as he moved around the hotel room, his shoulders bent ever so slightly in exhaustion. Did it really matter what he felt for me? He had returned, regardless of his motives, and had saved both me and Seren. Then the bitter, battle hardened part of me took over and reminded me that my feelings for him had brought nothing but misery and grief. He was helpful and a good source of protection, but he could turn on me in a moment if his motives changed.

Coldness swept through me with these thoughts, and I stared icily down at my fingers. "So what happens now?" I asked in a hard, quiet voice. I heard him stop and turn to look at me, but I kept my gaze on my hands. Truth was, I couldn't trust him still, especially out here away from my safety zone. I needed to know the plan, and I refused to be kept in the dark.

"We go to Chicago. Meet with Diana, she'll know where we can start with taking down Cicada." My head snapped up at his unexpected response. Diana? He stared back impassively even though I must have looked shocked by his reply.

"We?" I asked in a disbelieving tone. He tilted his head a little to the side, his blank expression melting into one of bland confusion.

"Yes. Did you want to do it alone?" This was not the direction I thought this conversation would take. This man was infuriating to the extreme; one minute he was a cold hearted, emotionless killer pushing me away, the next he was a concerned, loyal friend attempting to help me.

"I just assumed…you shouldn't feel obliged to help. I don't work for the ICA anymore. Besides I don't think chasing after them in my current state is wise." His brow furrowed and his expression turned to concern.

"They won't stop until you're dead, and Seren is theirs." He seemed to add the last part as an afterthought, and I couldn't help glancing with an agonised expression at the small girl who was still unconscious. It didn't make sense, why was he so determined to help me. I didn't have any connection to the agency and from what I knew of 47 he didn't like to associate with people he didn't need to. I shifted uncomfortably on the bed under his calculating gaze, unsure what to do. Five years ago I had made the decision to leave the ICA and that part of my life behind, I had grown tired of the corruption and evil it had revealed to me and the more time I spent in that world, the more I realised I didn't fit in. However, I could see the benefits of going to Diana, my old mentor, and 47 clearly wanted me to go for some reason.

"Perhaps you're right." I spoke slowly, weighing each word carefully. "Okay, I'll see Diana, maybe she can find a safe place for us." I didn't want to pursue Cicada. It would risk Seren too much, and I was vastly ill equipped to take them on. On the farm, I had been able to survive with my knowledge of the land and my complex system of traps. Out here, in the world I was vulnerable.

47 narrowed his eyes slightly, then nodded, satisfied with the conclusion and turned away from me, finally leaving me to my thoughts. Was I happy about taking Seren all the way to Chicago? Not really, but I had little choice. I knew sticking with the assassin was our best bet of surviving anything Cicada sent after us and I had no one else to turn to. All the rest of my family had been wiped out. I lowered my head slowly into my hands; sometimes I really wished I hadn't signed that contract all those years ago.

"I'm sorry about your Uncle Morgan. He was a good man." 47's soft voice hit me like a ton of bricks. I stared, dumbfounded at his back as he examined his pistol. He didn't look at me and I started wondering if I had imagined the heartfelt condolence he had offered out of the blue. Before I could respond I heard a quiet moan coming from the other bed. My head whipped round at the sound and I was on my feet in an instant as I saw Seren stirring groggily.

"Seren. Thank god, are you okay?" My leg protested as I rushed towards the bewildered looking child, but I didn't care, I wanted to feel her in my arms. She rubbed her eyes sleepily as she tried to sit up; I collapsed on the bed next to her and scooped her up into a protective embrace.

"My head hurts." She muttered hoarsely, and I let out a relieved chuckle. I was aware of 47 watching us, the pistol still held in his hands. I saw the open, vulnerable expression he had been wearing since our odd conversation, slowly disappear behind his familiar wall as Seren came to.

"That's alright cariad, I have something you can take for that." I felt her hands wrap around me as she hugged me back fiercely.

"We're not on the farm anymore, are we ma?" I took a deep breath in.

"No Seren. We're not." I couldn't see her face, so was unsure how she was taking this news until she whispered to me sadly.

"Are we ever going to go back there?" Her voice wobbled, and I began to rock her gently, sensing her distress.

"I'm not sure. Probably not." I didn't see the point in lying to her, she was smart enough to see through them. Still, I wanted to take back my abrupt words almost instantly as I felt her body begin to shake, and her silent tears formed a damp patch on my shoulder. I may regret this journey we were about to take, but we had nowhere else to go and all I wanted was to make her feel safe again.

47 was still watching us as Seren continued to sob into my shoulder, her tiny hands gripping onto my flesh painfully. I fixed him with a hard stare as I rocked my daughter uselessly. I didn't like the way he looked at her, as if she was a particularly nasty animal that might turn on him at any moment. I suppose that said a lot about him, and I couldn't help the twinge of sadness and pity I felt for him.

"Ma, can you read to me…please?" Her shaking sobs had slowed and I loosened my grip on her as she craned her neck, looking up at me with watery, blue eyes.

"Okay cariad." I murmured gently, shifting her so she was propped up on the pillow and shuffling round to sit beside her, our legs stretched out next to each other. She curled herself into my side as I took my Uncle's book from her outstretched hand. The well-worn green cover felt soft in my palm, and I fought back my own tears as I opened it.

"Which one?" I asked, showing Seren the list of poems and play extracts. She pointed a decisive finger at one and I raised an eyebrow at her. "You sure?"

She nodded stubbornly, her lip still quivering. I sighed, not sure about the subject, it seemed a little raw to me. "Uncle Rudy was reading it to me before…" She trailed off but I knew where she was going. Before the alarm, before the explosion, before I had taken her away from everything she had known. I nodded back sadly and turned to the right page.

"And death shall have no dominion. Dead man naked they shall be one. With the man in the wind and the west moon." My voice shook for the first few lines, then I settled into the quiet comfort of reading, letting Dylan Thomas' words speak for me; about my grief, my sorrow, my frustration. He always seemed to know how to say it. I forgot about how inappropriate this might be for Seren, she seemed to have settled too, her arm gripping my stomach as I read on.

47 lingered on the edge of my vision awkwardly for a moment, seemingly unsure what to do now. Eventually he sat down in a chair, methodically taking apart his pistol and cleaning it as Dylan Thomas' mournful words about death and the afterlife rang on into the early morning.

"And death shall have no dominion. No more gulls cry at their ears, or waves break loud on the seashores; Where blew a flower may a flower no more, lift its head to the blows of the rain; Though they may be mad and dead as nails, heads of the characters hammer through daisies; Break in the sun till the sun breaks down, and death shall have no dominion."


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Seren plucked the chip I was offering her from my hand, and absentmindedly put it into her mouth as she stared out of the car window. The houses flashed past, neat lawns and self-driving electric cars copied over and over again. Her face was fixed in nervous fascination as she took in her new world, far away from the fields and forests of home. I twisted back round to face the front of the car, a pained expression on my face and casually offered the chips to the assassin driving next to me.

He turned his head slightly and stared disdainfully at the proffered chips, like he was smelling something nasty. I snorted and withdrew my hand, angling away to look out of the window like Seren. "They're chips 47, not an open sewer." As if to prove the point I crammed several into my mouth at once, and tried to supress my smirk as I caught his slightly horrified expression out of the corner of my eye. "I see your aloof tastes haven't changed, although you seemed happy enough with my home cooking a few days ago." I shot at him through a mouth full of chips.

It felt good teasing him; it eased the tension between us a little, which considering the long journey we were about to take together was a good thing. He looked away from me, his expression deceptively blank as he quipped back.

"I didn't have a choice a few days ago." I whipped my head round at his biting comment, and couldn't stop the smirk twisting my mouth as I saw the wicked glint of humour in his eyes. I felt a buoyance I hadn't felt in a while rise up through my chest. I still wasn't sure if he was humouring me, but it was as if the last 48 hours, indeed the last five years had vanished between us and we were back on familiar ground. My smirk melted into an easy smile and I rested my head against the cool glass of the car window, watching the strange, unfamiliar world outside.

The car's petrol engine seemed amplified against all the other vehicles, gliding past, like futuristic ghosts. I wasn't sure I liked the electric engines, sure they would good for the environment but they were unnervingly quiet. I was certain I didn't like the self-drive chips installed in every new car as standard now, due to my past I was unable to hand my life over to a computer in that way. I was very grateful 47 was as stubborn about trusting the new world as much as I was.

Apart from the cars, it was hard to see if much else had changed. The houses looked the same, people still went about their lives, still glued to the phones which now tracked them everywhere. I stared at the windows of the houses we passed, sometimes I caught a glimpse of a family eating breakfast, watching TV or leaving to go to work. Normal, safe lives, all under Cicada's thumb. I shifted uncomfortably as the houses started to thin, I was an outsider looking in on this world, an exile who had come to fear technology and the people who controlled it.

"Strange isn't it?" I was jolted from my musings by 47's deep voice. I blinked as I gave him a sideways look; he kept his eyes facing forward.

"What is?" I asked tentatively, wary of his sudden desire to talk.

"How oblivious people are." His ability to read my mind had always unsettled me, but his casual observation intrigued me.

"Works in your favour though." I retorted, hoping he would continue. It was rare for 47 to talk about anything other than tactics or scolding me for going against him. He tilted his head to the side, the corner of his mouth turning up briefly.

"True, but I still wish they'd see what's right in front of them sometimes. I've seen governments and powerful people set their own agendas for this world time and time again, in an endless cycle. And every time people just except the new order and move on. It can be infuriatingly boring." My mouth dropped open slightly at his sudden monologue. He had always been so aloof to the politics and the world in general, this outburst gave me a tiny glimpse into an opinion I never thought he had.

"I saw it." I mumbled, almost to myself but the assassin turned his head to look at me properly, his face serious.

"You were just as bad when I first met you Morgan. Look at your boss." My brow furrowed as I ate another chip. He had a point, annoyingly.

"Okay, fine. But I saw straight through _your_ act slick." This time the half smile stayed fixed on his face as he returned his attention to the road.

"You did indeed. It's one of the reasons I choose you to replace Diana." I could count on one hand the amount of times 47 and I had had an in depth conversation, and he had never spoken of the reasons for choosing me in any of them. I shifted in my seat, swivelling my body to face him.

"One of the reasons?" 47's face had become a blank mask once more, his blue eyes flicked to me.

"There were other attributes that pointed towards you being a promising handler." His tone had become closed off, the easy, playful atmosphere that had blossomed unexpectedly, disappearing just as fast as it had materialised. A bone chilling thought crept unwelcome into my mind. If Diana hadn't been about to retire, what would my ill-timed perception have led to? I regarded the killer next to me, and let the cold reality of what might have been wash over me.

A small hand floated into view, jolting me out of my sobering revelation. Seren followed as she leant forward, sticking her head between the car seats. 47 tensed, it was subtle but I caught the movement, as the girl's hair brushed against his shoulder. Her hand closed around a chip and I gave her a small smile as she put it carefully in her mouth. Her blue eyes crinkling at the corners as she smiled back at me. 47 turned his head, annoyance flashing behind his eyes.

"Sit back." He snapped abruptly. Seren jumped and shot the assassin a glare before sliding back into her seat. Before she disappeared from view she looked at me, her eyes round and accusatory. I took in a sharp breath, unable to comfort her, as the startling similarity between the killer and the child was too much to bear.

…

The airport was small and extremely quiet. I couldn't help feeling conspicuous as we made our way across the tarmac to the large hangar. It was set away from the main terminal where all the commercial flights were leaving, a few light aircraft were dotted around in front of it. Seren stared at aeroplanes, her eyes round saucers of awe. I felt a guilty stab as I realised how sheltered she had been on that farm, I gave her hand a squeeze as we continued to walk past the planes. She looked up at me, a thousand questions on her face but before she could ask any a man exited the hangar and walked towards us.

He was a smaller than average man who looked to be around fifty, he was dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt, a baseball cap perched on his curly brown hair. I felt a little better about our rough appearance, I hadn't had a chance to get any spare clothes and we had left the hotel early coming straight here under 47's orders. His green eyes took in our mismatched group, zeroing in on 47.

"Can I help you mate?" He had a strong cockney accent; it stood out in this part of the world. Instinctively I pulled Seren closer to my side, she stared at the man intently, as if taking in every detail of this new person. My heart stuttered nervously at the sight of her intense expression, the assassin in front of me wore the same one as he regarded the man.

"I called yesterday, about the charter flight to Chicago." I blanched; he had called when? I was certain he had been in the room with me all evening, and I hadn't seen him call anyone. The man's expression lightened and his face split into a cheeky grin. Instantly I relaxed, I liked this guy he seemed honest.

"Oh yeah, I've got the plane all ready. Sent a false handle to air traffic, no one knows where we are headed and all payments in cash." His grin widened as his eyes flicked to me, crows feet framing them at the corners. "All very cloak and dagger this, it's been a while."

I couldn't help my answering grin; I really liked this guy. He shot a cheeky wink at Seren, then gestured for us to follow him as he turned and walked back into the hangar. 47 waited for me to go first before following behind us.

"My name is Charlie, and this is the Sparrow Hawk." The plane wasn't what I was expecting, it was a sleek, expensive looking affair, completely juxta-posed with its pilot. He must have seen my bewildered face as he sidled up to me and gave me nudge. "I know right, not what you thought you'd be riding in. These days I carry celebrities and politicians, bit boring if I'm honest. Be good to get back to my roots." I smirked at this forward, confident man, trying to piece together how he fitted into 47's world.

"What exactly do you mean by that?" The familiar abrupt voice cut through Charlie's conspiratorial conversation with me, he turned and held up his hands in a friendly gesture.

"Absolutely nothing guv, my lips are sealed." He gave me an over exaggerated wink before leaving the hangar. "I'll get your luggage." I watched him leave before fixing 47 with a disapproving stare.

"So…where did you find him?" His face was impassive as he walked a slow circuit of the plane, checking it I assumed. I rolled my eyes as he came round to join Seren and me. "You done? I'm sure its fine." He raised one eyebrow at me, letting the pause stretch between us.

"He used to be a smuggler." I waited for him to elaborate, but it seemed the wall that had been raised on the car ride here was remaining resolutely up. Frustrated anger flowed hot and volatile through my veins, I couldn't handle this.

"Seren, go inside." I pointed at the steps that led up into the plane. She looked at me in disbelief.

"Are we really going to fly in that ma?" I nodded, giving her a strained smile. Her excitement was endearing but I wanted to talk to 47 alone, I nudged her gently towards the plane and she eagerly trotted off to explore. As soon as she had vanished inside the aircraft I rounded on him.

"Look, I get that you've been trained to keep everything pretty close to your chest, but right now I am not in the mood for vagueness." He stared down at me, his expression unchanging. I could tell this was going to be a battle of wills, but I fully intended to win. "Currently I am being pursued by the world's most influential and ballsy hacker organisation who seem intent on killing me, whilst trying to protect a six year old girl who has spent the majority of her life on a farm in the company of two people. I have agreed to come with you because you are offering the only hope of me keeping her safe at the moment, the last thing I need is for you to treat me like an outsider. Is this guy safe, or not?" My voice increased in volume as my stress at the situation climbed with each word. By the time I reached the end of my frustrated rant I found I was inches away from him, glaring icily up at the cool, calm assassin.

He remained still, analysing my aggressive stance, an almost condescending look in his eyes. It made my anger boil dangerously high, and I clenched my hands into two tight fists. At this point I would have preferred to go it alone, take my chances with Cicada, anything to relieve me of this insufferable, patronising man.

"He is safe Morgan. I used an old phone, un-chipped, to call him and insisted he have nothing with a microchip aboard. We are flying to a private airfield just outside Chicago that I am going to direct him to while we travel. The ICA have used him in the past to transport sensitive clients and information. He is the best in the business." He spoke quickly, in a smooth disinterested voice and I could feel my anger cooling as he listed the safety precautions he had taken. "Cicada aren't following us at the moment, I have made sure of it. Besides, they are probably biding their time after that little display on the farm." He raised an eyebrow at me, sardonically. "Satisfied?" He finished in a cold voice.

I felt my cheeks flame with chagrin. I wasn't being unreasonable; the one enduring lesson I had learnt with my time with the agency was to trust no one. I was still twitchy about taking Seren to Diana; my fear of someone taking her off me had never truly gone away. I narrowed my eyes at him, then nodded once.

"Yes. Fine." 47 turned to face the entrance to the hangar just as Charlie returned with the contents of the car. One look at the assassin's unruffled appearance and you'd have never guessed a heated discussion had just taken place, but I could have sworn a look of intense relief had flashed across his face as he had swivelled away from me.

"If you two would like to board, I'll have us out of here in a jiffy." The cockney smuggler's easy grin dispelled the final bit of wariness at the situation and I made my way to the steps of the private plane. It had been a long time since I had flown and even longer since seeing my old mentor. My gut clenched uncomfortably as I took one last look at my home; the distant, dark mountains framed by the hangar entrance, the quiet of the rural airport broken only occasionally by a commercial plane taking off. It really did feel like the calm before the storm.

…

We touched down just outside of Chicago, on an isolated airfield twelve hours later. The flight had felt surreal; the interior of the plane had been just as posh as the exterior promised. I sat in the large leather chair facing Seren, a dazed look on my face. Our torn and grubby clothes stood out amongst the flawless cream and mahogany décor. I rubbed a hand over my tired eyes as I tried to adjust to the sumptuous surroundings, more fitting on Air Force One than a plane smuggling fugitives into America.

Seren spent the first half of the journey practically bouncing out of her seat, her nose pressed against the glass as she stared open mouthed at the city of clouds outside her window. 47 kept his distance, sitting as far away from us as he could manage. Every now and then he would get up and disappear into the cockpit to talk to Charlie, who remained in high spirits throughout our trip. In fact he was the only thing that made it slightly bearable for me, he would come out and chat to Seren, making her giggle and giving me conspiratorial winks every time he caught 47 glaring moodily at our interactions.

Eventually Seren grew tired of asking endless questions and staring out of the window in wonder. She began to examine the rest of the plane and I sensed trouble if I couldn't occupy her. 47's eyes were already glued to her as she slid off her chair and began to sidle towards him. He was sat, still as stone, in the chair closest the cockpit. There was a table in front of him, with a chessboard on it, he had a glass of whisky placed on the empty board which he had barely touched. I had seen him out of the corner of my eye, pick it up periodically, stare at its contents before setting it down after a moment of thought.

Now all his attention was focused on the small girl inching closer and closer to the table in front of him. I sighed; sure this wouldn't end well, and straightened up slowly out of my chair. Seren had reached him and was gripping the table with her small, pale hands, her nose poking over the end of it as she stared up at the stoic assassin. I walked towards them, watching with mild amusement as 47's expression remained impassive, but his whole body appeared to be straining away from the child in front of him.

"What's that?" Seren asked suddenly, pointing a finger at his glass. His blue eyes slide from the girl to the whisky, then deliberately back to the girl.

"None of your business." He responded abruptly. I saw Seren's shoulders tense and even from behind could imagine her nose scrunching in annoyance at his dismissive reply. Before she could quip back, trying 47's patience, I gripped her shoulder drawing her attention to me.

"Shall we see if Charlie will let you sit with him for a while?" Seren forgot about her mission to discover the nature of 47's drink, her face lighting up with excitement. I sheparded her away from the man exuding a hostile sense of annoyance, and steered her towards the cockpit. Charlie beamed as I entered with her, and agreed to let her sit in the co-pilot seat. Seren looked like all her birthday's had come at once and I left them chatting happily together as I closed the door behind me.

"Was that necessary?" I chided as I walked back to his table. He glanced up at me, hostility still evident in his eyes.

"I don't like being asked questions." I narrowed my eyes at him, before letting out an exasperated sigh and sitting opposite him. He looked briefly surprised before his stony glare resumed.

"Tell me about it. But she's six, so cut her some slack, would you?" He turned his face away to stare out of the window, and I folded my arms at his childish display. What was his problem with her? It wasn't like I was asking him to look after her. We sat in silence, the sound of the plane's engine purring beneath our stand off.

"You're not her mother." His comment caught me off guard, and it took me a moment to even realise what he had said.

"Excuse me?" I retorted, in a dangerously low voice. This time he turned his head to fix me with his penetrating eyes.

"You're not her mother Morgan. Why do you let her think you are?" Shocked anger surged through me, and I struggled to supress it as I tried to form an answer.

"I am, as far she is concerned anyway. Just because I didn't give birth to her, I am the one who raised her." Despite my best efforts I couldn't stop the outrage leaking into my words. He really had no idea. 47 regarded me; I knew he was analysing every word I had said, squeezing the double meaning out of them like water. He didn't say anything, but I still felt the need to defend my decision five years ago.

"She deserves a normal life. What did you expect? That I tell her she was made in a lab the moment she can talk?"

"It's the truth though. She deserves the truth." Where was this coming from? I could feel my anger getting away from me again under this impromptu interrogation.

"She deserves a family 47. Something you never got." This time his carefully placed mask slipped, revealing a fierce rage I wasn't prepared for.

"Is that what this is all about? You're trying to give her what you thought I should have had?" His voice was ominous, and I felt a cold, primal shiver run up my spine. It was as if the man I knew had left the seat in front of me, and all that was left was the cold, calculating killer everyone else saw. "I don't want your pity Morgan Williams." He lingered on my name, pulling it out, testing it. It made my skin crawl, I had never wanted to run and hide from this man as much as I did now.

His eyes pierced into me, I could almost feel them stabbing at my flesh as I tried to steady my wildly beating heart. The last time I had been this terrified of him, I had been watching him take a woman apart piece by piece as her screams filled my head. I couldn't move, as much as I wanted to escape his deadly stare I found myself fixed in place watching this handsome predator much like the deer I used to hunt. Just as I sure he was going to lunge for me, his face softened and a contrite look came over his features. He broke the tension by rubbing a hand over his face in a very human gesture, and I felt the heat come slowly back into my body after the ice-cold terror that had taken over.

"Why did you run?" His soft remark surprised me more than the fury he had let slip through the cracks. I blinked dumbly for a moment, trying to prise my jaw open from its stricken state.

"I thought you'd take her from me. You wanted to kill them all, it wasn't their fault they were made." My admission came out in a whisper, but 47 caught every word. He gave me a quizzical look before frowning.

"I would have helped you. I am now. Why don't you trust me?" The last remnants of my fear flew away, and I cocked my head to one side a sceptical look in my eye.

"The way you look at her, its like she has toxic skin or something. Plus, you've said it yourself; you don't exactly take an emotional stance on things. She's just a burden in your eyes." His mouth twitched at this.

"True. But you were my partner. I travelled across Europe for your little fact finding mission." His mouth moved up into a sad half smile. The more time I spent with this man, the more I was convinced there was more to him than he liked to believe. The smile faded from his face and he turned back to the window. Maybe I was being too cautious; he had returned for me after all, if he honestly didn't care he could have just walked away and left Seren and me to our fate. But he hadn't, and was now going out of his way to get us to Diana.

I rested my chin in my hand and stared out of the window with him. The sun was setting somewhere over the horizon, turning the billowing clouds a rosy shade of pink and orange. We sat in silence again; this time there was no crackling tension, only two people comfortable in the quiet. After a while my eyes drifted from the window to the chequered board in between us, and a warm nostalgia swept through me. My mouth stretched into a wide grin as I flicked my gaze up to 47.

"Reckon I could still take you." His eyes snapped to me, confusion clouding them before he saw what I was indicating and turned to face me properly.

"That's a bold statement. I _have_ been practicing." My grin widened and I retrieved the chess pieces from a compartment next to the table. I slowly began to set the board, letting my mind forget the danger that likely awaited us in the near future.

"In that case, it'll make it all the more satisfying when I kick your ass." 47 had let out a short snort and folded his arms as he watched me make my first move.

I smiled to myself as I remembered his mildly annoyed expression at my victory. It was nice to know, after years of not being able to properly enjoy games without the threat of an attack, I hadn't lost my touch. Still the nervous energy I had managed to dispel during our game, came back with a vengeance as the plane slowed to a stop on the deserted airfield. Seren had caught onto my sullen mood, as she sat still, looking intently out of the window at the dense woodland surrounding the small strip of tarmac.

"Is this America ma?" She had her face pressed against the glass again as she stared out at trees.

"Yes cariad. We're going to meet a friend I haven't seen in a long time." She looked at me, questions clearly burning behind her eyes, but she assessed my expression and thought better of it.

"Here you are. Safe and sound as promised. There's a car waiting for you by the road like you asked guv." Charlie grinned broadly at us, his sunny attitude brightening the sober cabin. I forced a wobbly smile to my face as 47 stood and nodded to him curtly.

"Thank you. I'll be in touch if I require your services again." He passed a bulging brown envelope to the pilot, who tucked it away in his back pocket. His jovial expression changed to a business like one as he opened the door, letting 47 stride purposefully past him and out of the plane. I let out a small, tired sigh as I moved to follow but he reached out a hand and stopped me as I tried to pass him.

"You look after yourself and the little one, ok." His tone was filled with sincerity, and his wise eyes twinkled with kindness as he looked at me. I could feel the tears threatening to burst out of me as his thoughtful concern washed over me. A strong urge to hug him suddenly gripped me and I had to take a shaky breath and remember where I was going and what was at stake to stop me breaking down.

"Thank you, I will." A warm, honest smile stretched across his face and he clasped my hand in the guise of a handshake. My eyes widened slightly as I felt him push a piece of card into my palm, and he gave me a pointed stare as he gripped my elbow with his other hand.

"If you're ever in a pickle, just let me know ok. I'll see what I can do." And just like that he released me and turned away as if the exchange had never taken place. I looked down at my hand as I descended the steps, a slip of card was nestled there with a number written in pen. Gratitude towards the cheeky smuggler bloomed in my chest as I walked towards another sleek, black car. This time it was a Ford, but I noted it had the same tinted windows and was a petrol car, not electric. 47 watched my approach, leaning against the Ford, his arms folded. He had already packed our bags into the car of course, and opened the door impatiently as I reached him. Seren clambered in quietly, and I flashed a glance at the plane stood on the runway and the scruffy man watching from the doorway.

We drove in silence; I was tired from the long flight and now a strong feeling of nausea bubbled in my stomach as the thought of seeing my mentor loomed in my mind. We hadn't exactly parted on excellent terms, she had gone behind my back and order 47 to kill the clones I had been trying to save, and I had betrayed her trust by going against the agency in the first place. I wasn't sure how she was going to take my sudden appearance, although I was sure 47 had told her we were coming. At least I hope he had.

I glanced at the assassin as the horrible thought solidified in my head. What if he hadn't? Would she tell me to leave? Would she try kill Seren…or me? I twisted my hands anxiously as we drove on, the trees giving way on one side to reveal a cliff edge, looking out onto a vast lake. 47 caught my nervous movements and looked at me briefly.

"We're almost there." I swallowed, my mouth dry from my growing sense of anxious fear. All I could manage was a feeble nod. The sick feeling intensified as we approached a large mansion perched on the edge of the cliff, an intimidating security gate manned by guards blocking our way. 47 brought the Ford to a smooth stop and wound down his window as one of the heavies approached. He leant down to frown at us before he clearly recognised 47, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"Tell Diana I've arrived." 47 shot at the guard curtly, not even bothering to turn his head. The man turned away from us and hurried back to his partner. They whispered frantically to each other, then one of them spoke into a headset lodged in his ear. After a brief pause, where I thought I might actually throw up, the gates crept open revealing a long drive winding up to the impressive mansion behind. 47 put the car into drive and passed the two stunned looking guards, as I closed my eyes taking in deep breathes, wondering what on earth Seren and me hoped to find here.


	14. Chapter 13

**A/N: Hello everyone, sorry for the long wait on this one. I wanted to get the interactions just right, I plan to post 14 a lot quicker. So fingers crossed work doesn't get too busy. Anyway, you know the drill...read, review and enjoy! :)**

Chapter 13

The mansion was a vision of modern architecture and glass. It was an aggressive display of wealth that I had rarely encountered outside the corrupt elite I had been sent to help kill in my previous job. The minimalist white walls contrasted against the numerous windows, lit up with fiery light from the setting sun. As we pulled up in front of the entrance two more guards moved towards the car, and I was aware of many more lingering in the immaculate gardens that surrounded this powerful woman's home.

It was easy to forget in her average looking office in Copenhagen, how wealthy Diana actually was. Equally, with his simple tastes and nomadic lifestyle 47 was also deceptively well off, although I had seen his villa in Sicily so knew better. I had never been short of money when I was a handler, although my career had been cut off abruptly, and my exploits in my Uncle's forest had cost a pretty penny. I wasn't sure how much I had left from those halcyon days, but I doubted whether I would have been able to buy a house in Wales with it, let alone somewhere like this.

The guards backed off when they saw 47 step out from the driver's side. I tried to gather my nerves before exiting the car, my stomach still felt like it was going to evacuate its contents on Diana's neat stone drive. Seren touched my shoulder lightly making me jump, I turned to face her and saw concern etched on her slim face.

"Are you okay ma?" A fierce protective love coursed through me and I gave her a shaky smile.

"Don't worry about me Seren." I could hear 47's low voice talking to one of the guards, and I knew I wouldn't have long before he came to see what I was doing. "Cariad, mae arnaf angen i chi wrando arnaf fi." _Sweetheart,_ _I need you to listen to me._ Seren sat up straighter in her seat; she was a smart girl, smarter than most, and she knew I meant business if I chose to speak welsh to her. She gave me a curt nod, her expression becoming serious. "Mae'r person yr ydym ar fin cyfarfod yn bwysig iawn. Peidiwch â gofyn cwestiynau a gofalwch beth rydych chi'n ei ddweud. Wyt ti'n deall?" _The person we are about to meet is very important. Don't ask questions and be careful what you say. Do you understand?_

She narrowed her eyes slightly, but nodded slowly at me. "Maent yn bwysig fel Tobias, ond nid ydynt yn hoffi Tobias?" _They are important like Tobias, but not like Tobias?_

"Yes, exactly. Not like him at all." I let out a heavy sigh and began to summon the strength to face my mentor. I knew Seren had understood, even if I wasn't entirely sure what I meant. She had been a brilliant teacher and had defended me when I had gone against the agency, but I couldn't forget her betrayal in Romania. She hadn't trusted me then, and I was pretty certain I didn't trust her now.

Before I could stall anymore the passenger side door opened and 47 quizzically stared in at me. "Come on. She's waiting." The bile rose in my throat as I stepped awkwardly out of the car, and opened the door for Seren. She hopped out, her head swivelling wildly around taking in every detail. I grasped her hand tightly, more for my own comfort than hers, and walked behind 47 as he led us towards the entrance. The guards eyed us balefully as we passed, but the small girl next to me was un-phased, an excited grin plastering her face as she spotted the vast gardens looking out onto the lake. I squeezed her hand, fear shooting through me as we stepped up onto the porch. No matter what, if I didn't like where things were going I was going to take Seren and run; I had done it before and was sure I could manage again.

The fear gave way to a stab of guilt as 47 looked over his shoulder at me. His mouth twitched up at me in a brief half smile before he entered through the double doors and into a large, lavishly decorated hallway. Seren's excitement intensified, and I gave her hand another squeeze to remind her of our agreement in the car. Instantly she sobered, her body becoming still as she stood in the entrance next to me. I glanced down and she returned my look with shielded blue eyes, sometimes I was thankful of her similarities with her predecessor.

The inside of the mansion was certainly more impressive than the outside; the hallway led off towards a set of stairs on one side and an archway dead ahead. Through the archway I could see a cavernous open plan living area, all modern furniture and tasteful, probably very expensive, art. The floor was covered in dark wood, and the walls were a mixture of wine red paint and grey slate.

47 was stood in front of me, blocking a lot of my view but I could just about see the several bodyguards that had congregated suddenly in the hallway with us. Their slightly bewildered expressions told me what I had feared most; he hadn't called ahead to warn her. Just as I was frantically starting to think this was a terrible idea and where exactly my exits were, I heard the brisk, sharp retort of heels on hard wood flooring. I felt myself feeling grateful for 47's broad frame stood solidly in front of Seren and me, as the disembodied footsteps stopped suddenly and a tense silence fell on the strange gathering.

"What are you doing here?" My mentor's clipped, formal tone was instantly familiar, and I found myself subconsciously straightening up as if responding to a feared childhood teacher. 47 was unperturbed by Diana's abrupt manner, and I could almost imagine the cool look he was giving her.

"I thought it best to speak in person." The gaggle of bodyguards all jumped slightly at his low voice projected out in the crowded hallway. It was obvious he had been here before, and made quite the impression it seemed. I couldn't see her, but I heard Diana shift and let out an annoyed sound at his enigmatic answer. I supressed a bitter smirk as I noted it wasn't just me that got frustrated at that trait.

"I'm glad to see you survived. Although I may need to remind you about protocol regarding interfering in a client's business. Also, going AWOL was not-" Her voice was icy, and I realised she was speaking cryptically for the benefit of her entourage. Did they not know what their employer did? My mind was just delving into the meaning behind this secrecy amongst her personal staff, when I became aware that she had stopped mid sentence. Suddenly my old mentor's face appeared around 47's arm, shock evident in her wide eyes. "Peregrine?"

She shot a disbelieving glare at 47 before wiping her expression clean, placing a careful smile in its place. Stepping around the assassin she walked a few steps towards me until she was level with 47. She was dressed impeccably in a navy blue dress, her red hair tied up in an elegant French twist, she always made me feel underdressed. He turned to watch the awkward, nervous exchange that was about to take place, his expression unsure. I could feel my palms growing clammy in Seren's tiny fist as Diana stared at me, sweeping me with her intelligent eyes. Finally, after assessing my dishevelled appearance, her eyes came down to settle on Seren and widened even more in astonishment. Seren tightened her grip on my hand, and I sensed her unease at the unfamiliar woman's scrutiny.

"Well, you have gathered quite the following haven't you 47." Diana's smile widened as she regarded Seren, I noted the smile didn't quite reach her eyes as she turned to face him. 47 stared impassively back, his blue eyes flicked to me briefly before returning to his long time partner.

"It's been a while Diana. Good to see you." I wanted to get out of this awkward situation, filled with disjointed greetings and double meanings. I was suddenly bone weary and finding it hard to stand. Diana turned back to face me, that smile that wasn't quite a smile still on her face.

"And you Peregrine." My stomach clenched uneasily at the sound of my codename.

"Please, call me Morgan." Her careful mask slipped at the casual use of my real name. I guess in a world like hers, such an apparent disregard for cover was alarming, however I had washed my hands of that tiring confidentiality when I had taken Seren from that lab. She regained her composure quickly though, and nodded sagely.

"Of course, my apologies Morgan. And who is this?" Instinctually all my muscles tightened as she addressed the girl clinging to me, I wanted to protect her but was unsure what exactly I was protecting her from. Seren glanced up at me, her ice blue eyes searching mine for permission. I gave it with a tense nod, and instantly the girl's neutral expression melted into a charming smile that she turned on Diana full force.

"My name is Seren." Her high voice rang out confidently, despite the throng of intimidating adults. Awed pride spread through me at the sight of Diana's taken aback expression. I saw her really look at the girl for the first time; taking in her slim face, alabaster complexion and arresting blue eyes, before clocking the six year old's unusually still stance. Diana's head snapped round to look at 47, one eyebrow raised harshly. A thin-lipped smirk twisted her lips, but her eyes remained stony, as she turned back to look at Seren. Her gaze flashed briefly to me, and I knew my mentor had put two and two together. I frowned as she smiled kindly at the girl next to me, keeping her voice light, not betraying her sudden revelation about her origins.

"What a lovely name." Diana looked at me, her expression guarded.

"What's your name?" Seren's imperious tone rang out unexpectedly. Diana blinked, taken aback once more by the abrupt question from the serious looking girl. Then quickly gathering her senses she answered in a cool, calm voice; similar to the one I imagined her using as 47's handler.

"My name is Diana." Seren nodded once, seemingly satisfied with the woman's response. Diana gave us both one last lingering look before turning back to 47, all niceties melting away. "You must all be tired. You're welcome to stay the night." She walked back over to her still nervous security team, and span to face us, a reserved smile on her face. My insides clenched uncomfortably, I didn't like the concealed suspicion my old mentor was giving off. She had never been one for affection or displays of friendliness, but she was treating me like I was a particularly tricky client who shouldn't know too much. It made me uneasy.

"Why don't you go and rest for an hour then we can reconvene for dinner. We have much to discuss, I am sure." She directed this last comment at the assassin stood silently in front of us. He regarded her for a moment, before nodding solemnly. Flicking a brief glance at Seren and me, he walked purposefully off down the hallway as if he knew exactly where he was going. It confirmed my suspicion that he had been here before. I grimaced internally as that thought sent cold fingers of jealously across my chest; sometimes I really wished my body wouldn't betray me at every turn.

Diana watched 47 disappear into the living area beyond the hallway before fixing me with her forced smile once more. "There are two rooms upstairs you can use Morgan, and I'll get one of my men to get you some replacement clothes. I imagine you had little time to pack in all the excitement." My brow furrowed at her flippant use of the word excitement. Having my home invaded and my Uncle die in front of me wasn't exactly my definition of excitement, but you know…each to their own.

Diana took my silence as an affirmative, and turned briskly on her heels, leading the way up the wide, wooden stairs that branched off from the hallway. Letting out a minuscule sigh I tightened my grip on Seren's hand, before following my predecessor further into her gigantic house.

…

I brushed my fingers tentatively over the patchwork of bruises covering my stomach and back. It was like a Jackson Pollock of sickly yellow and deeply worrying purple. Judging by the extent of their coverage, I must have hit every tree root and rock in my ungainly tumble down the hillside. I had unravelled 47's carefully wrapped bandages to examine the ugly black stitches criss-crossing my arm and calf, like spider legs. The injuries were still sore, but bearable with the aid of 47's painkillers.

I let out another heavy sigh as I ran a hand through my matted hair; I needed a shower, bad. I hadn't had enough time in the past 24 hours to breathe, let alone wash. I had been en-route to the bathroom connected to my room when, I had been distracted by my trauma-ridden body in the full-length mirror. Standing in front of it in my underwear I felt a squirming knot of anxiety at my uncomfortable separation from Seren.

Diana had shown me to my room before leading Seren to an adjoining one. She had kept a calm expression as the strange woman propelled her out of my room, but before the door was shut between us I had seen a flash of desperation cross her face. I wasn't entirely happy about the temporary separation, but it did give me a chance to gather my thoughts for the coming meal and relieve some of my stress. I continued on my original journey to the en-suite bathroom and stood for what felt like an age below the large showerhead, letting the warm water wash over my aching body.

I did feel better once I was out and dry, and I let my mind focus on the task of re-bandaging my wounds carefully. There was a hollowness, which I had been wrestling with since leaving the farm in such dramatic circumstances, but now I allowed myself to delve into. I wouldn't admit it to Seren, and certainly not to Diana and 47 but I was scared. A deep, primal fear that came from the unknown. For all I knew Cicada were closing in on Seren and me as we rested here, and as much as I respected both 47 and my old mentor's capabilities I feared Cicada's power and intelligence far more. Out in the world I had hidden from for five years, I had no way of telling how they would strike next.

Awkwardly I pulled on the clothes Diana's security guard had brought me. A pair of jeans, a dark blue tank top, and a soft, checked shirt. It was what I had worn for years as a photographer and then as a handler. 47 and Diana had always expressed a frustration at me never changing my style, even in the field. I sighed as I looked in the mirror, it appeared Diana thought the old Perry was back; I wasn't so sure.

As I looked at the ghost in the mirror, my eyes drifted to the door to my room reflected behind me. My heart stuttered as I saw it was slightly ajar, I was certain it had been closed earlier. But it wasn't the door's opened state that had made my adrenaline spike; it was the pair of green eyes staring at me through the gap. Instantly I whipped around to see who was watching me, but they were gone as I focused on the crack in the doorframe. Had I imagined them? No, I was sure someone had been watching me, I had even felt that familiar tingle down my spine when your body senses an unseen set of eyes on it.

I remained fixed in place for a moment, my focus on the door, but the eyes didn't return and I told myself it had been a curious member of the security team. Unfreezing my limbs I continued getting ready for dinner, it was almost time to go down. However, despite my brain trying to forget what I had just seen I couldn't shake the eyes from my thoughts. They had been too low in the doorframe to be a bodyguard and they had burned with an unconcealed hatred that I hadn't seen before.

At around seven I moved reluctantly towards the door, dinner with my ex-teacher and mentor was the last thing I needed right now. All I wanted to do was curl up on the double bed with Seren and rock us both to sleep. I took a steadying breath in as I opened the door fully and almost let out an alarmed yell as the small figure stood in the doorway surprised me.

"Seren. Jesus, you nearly gave me a heart attack." I breathed out haltingly, trying to get my pulse rate down. The phantom owner of the green eyes must have freaked me out more than I cared to admit. Seren stared up at me innocently, her expression blank. She was wearing a blue pleated skirt, with thick wool tights and a white blouse. She looked like she was about to go to an extremely expensive school, not downstairs for dinner. She chewed on her lip anxiously, not responding to my jumpy mood. I noticed she was rubbing her upper arm as if it was hurting; I reached out and touched her hand gently. "Are you okay? What's wrong with your arm?"

She shook her head vigorously so her chocolate brown hair, which had been arranged in careful curls, fanned out, framing her face dramatically. "Nothing. My arm is fine."

I frowned down at her, sure she wasn't telling me the whole story but I could already hear the sound of Diana's voice floating up to us from below, mixed very occasionally with 47's brief, gruff replies. I took her hand away from her arm and held it as I began to move us down the corridor. "These are nice. Who did them?" I enquired, running a silky curl through my fingers. I had a feeling I already knew the answer, but wanted to distract myself from what we walking towards.

"Diana did. She said I had lovely hair." A strange feeling of jealously clawed at my stomach. It had been nice for Diana to look after Seren while I got ready, but I couldn't help the maternal outrage of another woman touching my daughter's hair in that way. I tried to shake the irrational feeling as we reached the bottom of the stairs and turned into the massive open plan living area.

Instinctively I tightened my grip on Seren as we stood awkwardly in the entrance to the sophisticated room. Designer furniture rested in the middle of the room, floor to ceiling windows dominated the far walls. I could imagine in the day they flooded the room with light, but now they were covered with wooded blinds. A grand piano was perched on a raised area in the corner of the room, and a mezzanine balcony was opposite, showing the doors of a number of other rooms upstairs. A few guards stood up there, leaning on the low wall, looking down into the living area. More guards were dotted periodically around the large floor space, trying to be incognito, there but not part of the proceedings. I was completely out of my depth in a place like this.

After taking in the impressive interior design my eyes were drawn to the two elegant people in the centre of the room. Diana was still in her navy, slip dress she had been wearing earlier, but 47 had changed out of his battered, weather beaten suit and into a fresh one; his appearance once again immaculate. I wondered absent-mindedly if he had his own supply of suits here, then the thought turned nasty and I quickly shied away from it. I couldn't help the feeling of not belonging though as I stared wide eyed at the perfectly suited pair, they were both holding wine glasses and Diana was smiling slightly as she murmured something to the assassin. His blue eyes were fixed on her face, intently listening to his trusted partner. The jealously I had felt at Diana doing Seren's hair intensified as I thought no one would put me in this picture voluntarily. Seren could easily wander over to the man and woman stood in this room and be mistaken for their daughter.

47 noticed my presence first, his ice blue eyes flicked to me and he angled his body automatically, opening up his huddle with Diana to include me. This simple gesture warmed my insides just enough to chase away the unattractive emotions I had been feeling. Diana turned, a little more reluctantly I felt, away from him to look at me as well. I took my cue and walked slowly over to the finely dressed pair, my shirt and jeans feeling a bit too casual next to them. Although, I reminded myself, Diana had technically dressed me. As I reached them 47's eyes swept up and down my body, and the faintest ghost of a smile flickered across his face, it was so quick I wasn't sure I had seen it but his eyes grew infinitesimally warmer as I halted by his side.

"You're looking better Per-Morgan." Diana's stumble drew my attention away from 47 and towards her. She gave me that small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes again.

"Yes, I am. Thank you for the clothes." I replied in a restrained tone. I still wasn't sure what Diana thought of us suddenly appearing on her doorstep, but she was doing a bang up job of hiding it. She nodded, her eyes briefly creasing to match her smile before she turned away and started walking out of the living area.

"Dinner will be ready soon, if you'd like to come this way." I glanced at 47, unsure of what to do. It was remarkable how in five years I could learn to survive an army of hitmen and mercenaries but five minutes in the company of my old teacher could make me feel as naïve and inexperienced as when I first met her. The assassin looked down at my uncertain expression for a second before tilting his head in the direction Diana had gone.

"Come on. It'll be fine." He was up to his old mind reading tricks again, I thought sourly as I walked beside him into an adjoining dining room. A large mahogany table took centre stage in this room; it was polished to a fine sheen and was surrounded by matching chairs. Diana was stood on the other side of the table to us, waiting behind a chair set in the middle of the table. I noticed with some confusion that it was set for five people, not four and Diana must of noticed my perplexed expression as her face twisted into a pained smile.

"If you don't mind, there will be one more joining us." There was a strained quality to her voice, and I felt an ominous shiver run through me as I stopped behind a seat opposite her. 47 moved smoothly to stand beside me, Seren on the other. Just as I was preparing to sit down Diana's expression changed to one of apprehension as her gaze switched focus to something, or someone behind us. "Ah, here she is now."

Automatically I turned to see this mystery dinner guest, and instantly my muscles clenched in surprised fear as the green eyes I had seen lurking behind my door stared right back at me. They belonged to a lean, uncomfortable looking woman, her slightly sallow face framed by long, dark hair. She was stood still, her hands clenched in tight fists by her side, she seemed to crackle with a volatile energy more suited to a life or death situation, not a gathering at a dinner table. There was the faintest smattering of freckles around her nose, giving her tired face a youthful quality, but I suspected she was in her mid to late twenties judging by her stature. Her mouth was downturned and set in a tight line, pulling her usually pretty features into a mask of distasteful aggression, and those eyes. They still burned with the same hatred I had seen before, and they were focused in on Seren and me; they flicked in an agitated way between us before finally, after a tense and unexplained standoff, she looked at 47.

The change was instantaneous and alarming. Her body relaxed and her angular expression softened to one of relief almost, her mouth turning up at the corners, changing and lightening her features. The years appeared to drop off her as she smiled shyly at the assassin next to me, and I saw a connection I hadn't encountered before with this man. She was staring at him with a mixture of embarrassment and awe, much like a daughter might look at a long absent father. He gave her a fleeting half smile, and nodded his head ever so slightly in greeting.

"Victoria, you're late. Come and sit next to me." Diana's curt voice cut through the awkward reunion, making the woman flinch. I stared at her as she moved quickly around the table to stand by her guardian, the unpredictable energy I had detected building again as her eyes flashed periodically to Seren. I knew who she was, as much as she had aged I recognised her from her file. Still, it was a shock to see her in the flesh. I had read a lot about her when investigating the agency's apparent dubious experiments into cloning and genetics.

Her early life had been turbulent and violent, resulting in Diana kidnapping her at the age of fourteen and hiding from the ICA. It had been an unusually risky and selfless act for the experienced and pragmatic handler to take, and I had wondered back then how she could make the decision to turn her life upside down for one girl. Clearly my perspective had changed now, but Victoria didn't seem to be the relieved, well-adjusted person I had expected after all these years. She leaned away from Diana, as if trying to keep a respectful distance, and I saw no affection between the pair. If anything, the older woman looked embarrassed at the other's presence. An uneasy feeling crept over me as I slowly took a seat with the rest of the odd gathering.

Victoria sat opposite Seren and me, and an overwhelming desire to take us back upstairs tiptoed into my mind. Her green eyes seemed to burn into Seren, but the little girl next to me was apparently un-phased by this strange, hostile woman. She started picking up the various utensils laid out in front of us, examining the highly polished silver with interest. It was definitely a far cry from my Uncle's humble country kitchen back home. A pang of homesickness washed over me as I gently laid a hand on Seren's, forcing her to put down the butter knife she was holding. When I looked back up at the table my cheeks flamed harshly as the rest of our company were watching us intently. With the exception of 47 of course, he stared impassively ahead, as still as stone.

Diana made some inane conversation about the food as a pair of waiters appeared suddenly with our first course. It was a complicated looking affair, made up of what looked like prawns and some other fancy garnish. Gingerly, I picked up what I assumed was the correct tool for the job and started to eat. I felt myself beginning to retreat instinctually; it had been five years since I had last been in 'normal' society, and I had grown unaccustomed to small talk. My Uncle, being a straight talker, had never been one to shoot the breeze with me. I found myself matching 47's polite stare and it wasn't until he shot a sideways look at me that I realised Diana was talking directly at me. My host was wearing a concerned expression, but underneath I could just make out the slight tinge of annoyance.

"I said we have a lot to discuss Morgan. Starting with how you managed to last so long." I narrowed my eyes at her, conscious of Seren's attention being focused on our conversation. She didn't notice my reservation however, or chose not to. "According to my intel, just under a hundred freelancers and mercenaries attempted to complete the contract on you. It appears we put you in the wrong job." Her mouth twisted up into a genuinely amused smile at this last part, I didn't return it.

"It's funny how quickly you can learn when you have a price on your head." My voice was level and cold as I kept a stony eyed stare on Diana, I really didn't want to have this discussion with Seren around but I felt I wasn't going to have a choice. 47's mouth twitched at my abrupt response and I saw Diana's eyes flick to the small movement with lightning quick speed.

"Quite." Diana's voice was brittle, as if she was keeping something at bay. If the idea hadn't appeared completely bizarre to me, I would have sworn she was giving 47 a warning look. Her face cleared, the distasteful emotion evaporating as quickly as it had appeared. "Seren, do you remember anything before the farm?"

My whole body stiffened reflexively. What did she think she was doing? Seren looked up from her plate, her blue eyes locking onto Diana. I heard the woman's sharp intake of breath as she regarded the girl next to me. Glancing down at her I could see the unsettling resemblance clearer than ever to the man sat on my other side. A burning feeling on the side of my face drew my gaze to the person sat opposite us. Victoria was sat rigid in her seat, her eyes blazing as she stared at me, unblinking. I wasn't afraid to admit she intimidated me, more so than my old mentor. Her unabashed disdain for Seren and me made me feel on edge, as if at any moment she could leap across the table to attack us.

Seren was still oblivious to the acid look Victoria was giving us, or at least she was pretending to be. She cocked her head to one side, as if thinking about Diana's question before answering in a high, confident voice. "I remember meeting my Uncle Rudy, I remember travelling, on a train I think. And I remember the metal box where I used to sleep."

My blood ran cold at the child's frank answer. I felt like I was back on the farm when she had confessed to knowing her original name. Victoria's hostile expression widened to one of shocked surprise at Seren's admission. A new emotion flooded her vivid green eyes, one of deep fear.

"You remember all that?" Diana's voice was gentle, but I could hear the probing curiosity concealed within it. Seren was warming up to the woman's questioning, and she nodded her head, her mouth stretching into a warm smile.

"Yes, and I can remember the name I had before this one."

"Seren, digon." _Enough_. The words shot out of my mouth like a whip crack. Instantly Seren's smile vanished and she became unusually interested in her food once more. I wasn't ready to delve this far into Seren's subconscious memories, especially not in the present company.

"I know you don't want Seren to be exposed to her past, but there really is no getting away from it." Diana spoke in a condescending tone that sent a wave of irritation through me. I glared icily at her, but her expression remained unchanged, her cool eyes regarding me pragmatically. Before I could retort the waiters returned and removed our now empty plates. Diana became the gracious host, enquiring as to whether we had enjoyed the starter and would we like more drinks. She was definitely playing a game with me, and I was unsure of the rules.

Once the table was cleared the waiters were back almost immediately it seemed, carrying our main. The smell of cooked meat wafted over us, and even I was temporarily distracted by the impressive steak that was placed in front of me. I had done my best with my Uncle's meagre funds, combined with my hunting skills, however it had been a long time since I had had a meal like this. Seren too was transfixed, her eyes growing large at the sight of what she had been presented with. The heated conversation was diverted while Seren and me savoured our meal. I was conscious of Diana's curious eyes still on me, but for the moment I didn't care.

After a while I became aware Diana had switched her focus to Seren, the analytical look in her eyes putting me instantly off my meal. I could feel the tension building again and had a feeling Diana wasn't going to drop her previous train of thought.

"How much have you told her Morgan?" The question came out of nowhere, and it took a moment for me to collect my thoughts.

"Enough, for now." I spoke in a low voice, filled with warning. I hadn't come here to be interrogated; I threw a venomous look at 47 as Diana let out a patronising sigh.

"From personal experience, there is no point in hiding these sort of things." The tension increased between us, creating a dense atmosphere that settled around the table.

"I'm not hiding anything." I growled softly though clenched teeth. I felt 47 shift slightly next to me, he was angling himself towards me obviously perceptive to my building aggravation. I tried to steady my breathing; losing my temper here was not a wise idea, but I could already feel my patience slipping away. "I just want what's best for her, a normal childhood without the risk of becoming…" I trailed off, unsure how I wanted to finish that sentence. However Victoria's eyes flashed dangerously across the table at me, and I saw her straighten, outrage etched in her features.

"Like me? Like him?" She jutted her chin out, indicating 47 as she challenged me in a strained voice, as hard as steel.

"That's not-" I tried to defend myself, feeling the tension start to evolve into something I didn't like.

"It is." She spat the words at me. I could feel the force behind them, but didn't have any time to defuse the rapidly escalating situation before she drew breath again. "I tried to run from who I was, was told to, and it was useless in the end. It'll be the same for her." Now I could feel my own anger rising to match hers, Seren sat still and quiet next to me, her eyes zeroed in on the woman opposite.

"Victoria, I think you'd better go." Diana's voice was stern, the voice of authority but Victoria had reached the point of no return and her sudden anger seemed unquenchable.

"No, why should I? I'm just being honest. Something you wouldn't know much about." Victoria's voice rose with each sentence, her anger a crackling halo around her now. I was aware of 47 tensing next to me, his body angling more and more towards the confrontation erupting at our end of the table.

"Calm down." His deep voice cut through the argument like a knife, and for a moment it looked like Victoria was going to obey him. She stared at the assassin, a vulnerable look on her face before her expression hardened again.

"This is stupid. Am I the only one who can see history repeating itself?" Confusion clouded my already heightened senses, every nerve in my body wanted to grab Seren and get out of here. But like a deer staring down a charging bear I was fixed in place, running felt like the wrong thing to do. I tried to defuse the volatile situation as I became ever more aware how close Victoria was to Seren.

"It won't, not if I can help it." I spoke in a slow, steady voice but it had little affect on Victoria who was now almost visibly shaking with frustrated rage.

"You can't change anything. She's just like us." Her voice wavered on the last word, and I knew without her spelling it out that she was referring to herself and 47.

I shook my head sadly, making sure to keep my voice level. "You're wrong. About her, about yourself." Victoria's anger had been explosive up until that point, but now her eyes narrowed and I felt it condense down, until it was a hard, point directed at me.

"Really?" Her voice was quiet, but there was a deadly edge to it that made all the hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention. Adrenaline flooded my system as I felt a shift in the atmosphere, I was hyper aware of 47 shifting too, and Seren's statuesque posture. The detail in Victoria's face intensified as time began to slow down. Her eyes turned from a blazing green fire to a cold blankness that was all too familiar to me. "I'll prove it." She hissed, and my stomach flipped in a nauseating way as I predicted what was about to happen.

Victoria lunged across the table towards Seren, her hands outstretched, fixed in unfriendly claws. My body moved without me being conscious of it, a protective anger sweeping through me, taking control. I felt myself stand up to my full height, grabbing the back of Seren's chair and pulling her out of reach. Then I was sidestepping in front of her, directly in the path of the attacking woman. I prepared myself for the feeling of her strong hands around my throat, as the cold, metal of the steak knife filled my hand and I brought it up towards her face.


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

The room fell completely silent. We were frozen in a tableau of fury; Victoria paused inches from the serrated edge of the knife I was holding, her hands still outstretched towards my neck. I was aware that 47 was also on his feet next to me, his eyes flicking between me and Victoria, Seren was still seated behind me but I could feel her small hands balled up in the tail of my shirt. I didn't take my eyes off Victoria; we glared at each other, green eyes into brown. The only person who seemed relatively unaffected by the dramatic standoff was Diana. She sat, her hands folded in her lap, an intrigued look on her face. She appeared to be observing a particularly interesting science experiment, not a near fatal fight involving her ward of more than ten years.

Victoria moved first, she slowly inched herself away from me and the shaking knife pointed at her face; her expression of rage simmering down to one of intense anger, her mouth drawn in a taut line as she stood watching me. The tense standoff was broken by the entrance of two of Diana's security guards. They blundered into the silent dinning room with panicked expressions on their faces, I wasn't sure how much Diana was paying them but they weren't worth it. Victoria's posture relaxed slightly as her piercing green eyes took in the two guards, they moved slowly around the table, their gaze flicking from Victoria to my still brandished knife.

She took in a shuddering breath, shooting a venomous look at me. "I'm going. Don't worry." The dense atmosphere evaporated almost immediately as, flanked by the two nervous looking men, Victoria walked sedately out of the room. After a beat I let the knife fall from my hand with a clatter and rested my palms on the table in front of me. I was aware of the two sets of eyes burning into the side of my face, but ignored them while I got my adrenaline levels back on track. It was Seren's insistent tugging on my shirt that eventually made me straightened up and turn towards her.

Her pale blue eyes looked up at me searchingly, I gave her a weak smile trying to reassure the clearly shaken child. A sense of relief washed over me, calming my jangling nerves finally, in the knowledge that even faced with a life threatening danger like Victoria, Seren hadn't reacted aggressively. The relief was short lived however when I looked at it from an observers point of view; true, Seren hadn't shown she was just the killer she was programmed to be, but I had definitely proved my aggression.

As if in answer to my cold thoughts, Diana's voice broke the continuing silence amongst us. "Well, you certainly have changed. There's not much that can stop Victoria when she loses control, I must say I am impressed." I didn't like her tone, and it appeared 47 thought the same as me.

"Did you know that was going to happen?" He stared down at his still seated handler; his eyes narrowed enough to convey his suspicion. Diana switched her gaze to him, her expression hardening.

"I find your tone awfully accusatory 47." The pair continued their stare off for a few moments, and I ran a comforting hand over Seren's head. I was tired after all the excitement and wanted to get us both out of this situation I had foolishly brought us into. Finally Diana looked away from the assassin and responded in a flat voice. "No, I didn't as a matter of fact, but thankfully no one was hurt."

I saw 47's mouth twist into a distasteful grimace for a second before he noticed my attention was on him and he arranged his features to his usual impassive look. Diana raised her voice suddenly, making me flinch involuntarily. "Jackson."

Another of Diana's security team entered the dining room. He gave the tense company a cursory glance before zeroing in on his boss. "Yes ma'am?" Despite his intimidating appearance, similar to most bodyguards, I heard the slight quiver in his voice as his eyes kept drifting to 47.

"I think you'd better take Seren to her room." I tore my gaze away from the uncertain guard and glanced sharply at Diana.

"Do you think that's wise? I'd really rather she stay with me." Seren signalled her own unease at the suggestion by tightening her grip on my shirt. She may not have reacted to Victoria's attack, but she was definitely aware of her hostility towards her. Diana seemed un-phased by my concern however, as she let out a small, irritated sigh before turning her attention to her place setting.

"She'll be fine Morgan. Victoria knows the rules; she won't go near Seren again tonight. Trust me." The emphasis she put on the last two words made my skin crawl, I stared at the elegantly composed woman on the other side of the table. Her expression was blank but her eyes burned with sincerity. Something of the old mentor I had grown to rely on swam to the surface of her careful, shrewd persona and I let out a reluctant breath.

Turning to face Seren properly I gently prised her hands off my shirt. She blinked up at me, and briefly I saw the brave face she was putting on slip. My heart squeezed painfully at the sight of her bewildered fear; she was in an unfamiliar country, in an unfamiliar house with more people than she had ever seen in her life. Guilt took hold of me as I forced a comforting smile to stretch across my face.

"Will you come read to me later ma?" Her small voice was the last straw, ignoring the stoic company and waiting bodyguard I bent down and gripped the small girl to me. She stayed rigid for a few seconds before wrapping her tiny arms around me and hugging back, hard. I buried my nose in her soft brown hair and inhaled deeply, letting her familiar scent ground me.

"Of course cariad." I whispered into her hair as I felt her warmth leaking though my shirt and top. All too soon it seemed I felt the awkward, lingering presence of Jackson off to one side of us. It was clear he wanted to extract himself from 47's company as soon as possible. Reluctantly I loosened my grip on Seren and gently propelled her towards the man. Every fibre of my being wanted to go with her, as he laid a large hand carefully on her back and steered her with him out of the dining room. She shot a searching look at me over her shoulder before she disappeared and suddenly the warmth I had felt holding her to me melted away to be replaced by a hard stonewall.

"I fear I might have some explaining to do." I was still staring at the spot where Seren had disappeared as Diana's tentative words reached me. Slowly I swivelled and folded my arms defensively across my chest, my steely expression braver than what I felt right now.

"I think you might." My voice was sharp and unyielding. Even if she had been unaware of how things would pan out, she had put Seren in danger and I was determined I wasn't going to be fed any more lies. Diana gestured for me to take a seat again, and as I lowered myself back down at the table 47 smoothly sat too. Resuming his position next to me.

"My sincere apologies Morgan. I didn't intend for things to pan out like that. Victoria can be…unpredictable." Diana's voice had shifted slightly; there was no longer an edge to it that made me think she was hiding something. I felt myself beginning to relax, the curiosity at seeing Victoria finally creeping to the forefront of my mind.

"That's an understatement. What happened to her?" Diana didn't try and deflect the question or hide her emotions in anyway. I sat, stunned, as the usually composed woman seemed to sag in her seat, laying her head in her hand as she rubbed her fingers across her eyes. 47 didn't show whether he was equally baffled by her sudden vulnerability, but I noted he didn't take his eyes off the woman sat opposite him. He was just as intrigued to hear her answer as I was.

"I tried. Believe me I did." Her voice was quiet; the weary despair evident in her tone. I stayed as still as possible, not wanting to break this bizarre spell that had come over Diana. "I'm not a natural mother, and Victoria wasn't a normal teenager. Her mood swings got progressively worse as she grew older, and I had a few near misses." My hand automatically went up to my forehead, and I reflexively ran a finger over the scar that cut across above my left eye. 47's eyes shot to my involuntary movement and I quickly took my hand away from my face, folding it back in front of me. Diana was still resting her head in her hand so had missed my Freudian slip, she continued on with her confession as if unleashing a burden that had weighed on her for some time.

"To be honest, if 47 hadn't been here the first time it happened I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be here now." I turned my head to look at the assassin next to me, he stared back, aloof as always.

"What did you do with her after that?" The question popped out before I realised what I was doing. Diana finally lifted her head from her hand to look at me; I had to stifle my gasp at her miserable expression. She looked like a haunted woman, in all the time I had known her this was the most shaken I had seen her.

"The only thing I could think of, I kept her confined to the mansion." She struggled on the last words. "We tried counselling and therapy, but nothing worked. My presence became the only thing that calmed her. She was the reason I decided to step down as 47's handler in the first place." I couldn't stop the humourless snort that escaped me, Diana looked at me sharply.

"She didn't seem very calm in your presence just now." Her face, which had been emotional but still fairly composed, began to crumple. The alarm I felt at seeing her start to break down made my eyes widen; she was a completely different woman to the one that had greeted us barely two hours before.

"No. She seems to resent me now." For the first time since seeing her again I could see how the years had affected her, there was a tiredness behind the carefully constructed front that spoke volumes. Rarely had I seen my stoic mentor ruffled by anything, but this unusual girl she had taken responsibility for seemed to have cracked her.

"Why?" The hardness had leaked out of my voice, a feeling of empathy replacing my cautious suspicion towards her.

"I'm not sure. For keeping her prisoner, for not letting her destroy herself. I really don't know. I don't think she does either." I sucked in a shocked breath at the easy way in which Diana mentioned Victoria's attempt at suicide. My thoughts flashed to the tortured anger on her face earlier, before Seren's features crept unwelcome into my mind. "You look worried."

I choked back a bitter laugh at Diana's sudden concern, "Yeah, no shit." I muttered as I became aware of 47's eyes boring into the side of my face. He hadn't looked away from me during the whole of Diana's confession; I guess he already knew the story. Diana tried to rearrange her features to something more comforting; I felt the tide of conversation shift and knew her outpouring was almost done.

"Seren seems different, almost like a normal child. She was a lot younger when you took her, so there is still hope. Has she ever displayed any aggressive tendencies?" My hand got halfway towards my scar again before I stopped it, but 47's attention was zeroed in on the betraying appendage.

"Once." I admitted reluctantly in a small voice. Diana raised a perfectly formed eyebrow slowly, and I saw 47's brow furrow out of the corner of my eye.

"Did she do that?" Nothing got passed him, and I turned to look at him as I answered slowly.

"She was three and we were having dinner. She wanted to play with Gelert, my Uncle's dog." I explained to the avidly listening Diana. All trace of the emotional woman was gone now; her expression was business like and inquisitive again. "She hadn't finished so I said no. She took offence to that and threw a knife at me. Hard."

I had tried to push the uncomfortable event to the back of my mind, not because of the pain she had caused but because of what it had meant. About her, about where she had come from. I turned my gaze back to the assassin next to me, maybe he would understand more than anyone what I feared the most. He stared back, his face impassive, but his ice blue eyes burning with something I couldn't quite place.

"That could have been just a toddler tantrum." I could hear the pragmatic thought process in Diana's voice, but I shook my head sadly as I continued.

"No, she threw that knife like she was intending to kill me. It was only because I managed to duck in time that it didn't go straight through my eye." 47's eyes widened ever so slightly as I finished recounting that dark day. My Uncle had grabbed Seren and managed to wrestle her upstairs whilst I stemmed the worst of the bleeding, my hands slick with blood as I held a tea towel to it. Even at three she had put up a good fight and I had been scared she would hurt my Uncle, but he had shut her in her room and read one of his books to her outside the locked door. That was the night we had found out she liked Dylan Thomas.

I brushed my fingers over the puckered scar again. 47's jaw muscles tightened as he watched me trace the evidence of what Seren really was, a heavy weight settling inside of me. Maybe Seren was destined to follow Victoria's path, who knew what she would become as she got older. That fear was something I had lived with since that night, and next time I might not be quick enough.

"It may not seem like it right now Morgan, and I know you don't trust me, but I understand what you're going through." I tore my eyes away from 47 and looked at Diana. The last place I had expected to find sympathy for what I was trying to do was with these two people, but right now I would take it wherever it came. I had been alone for too long. "What do you plan to do now?"

Her question came out of nowhere and the crushing reality of our situation pressed down on me. "Hide somewhere. Keep her safe, away from people who want to hurt her, or use her. 47 said you might be able to help us." Her eyes snapped to the man next to me, then immediately back to me. If my statement surprised her she didn't show it.

"I can, but not in the way you want I'm afraid." Her tone was slipping back into the clipped, formal voice more suited to the current head of an organisation of assassins.

"What do you mean?" The wall which had been briefly knocked down by our shared situation was climbing back up, brick by brick. Diana folded her hands neatly in front of her again and regarded me coolly.

"I'll be honest Morgan, hiding is only going to buy you time. If you really want Seren to lead a normal life, have a childhood, you need to get rid of the threat." I narrowed my eyes at the woman opposite.

"You mean go after Cicada?" Diana ignored the dangerous edge to my voice, as the mere thought of going on another wild goose chase filled me with dread.

"It's the only way. They will never stop; believe me I know. I can help you in locating key members of their group, and give you all the resources I can." I leant back, flicking my glance between Diana and 47. They were both looking at me with their unreadable faces, the pinnacle of professionalism. I felt cornered.

"Why haven't you done it yourselves? Surely the ICA can take on a rag-tag group of hackers. Why do you want me to get involved?" I could feel myself prickling under their blank stares.

"As much as it pains me to admit it, we are not as powerful as we once were. Cicada has done a good job dismantling the agency piece by piece. I held on to what I could, but even 47 will testify that our business has been somewhat…lacking these past few years." I looked at him as he inclined his head in affirmation.

"I promised myself I wouldn't go back to doing what I did before. I could never distance myself from the job like you two, I didn't belong." Diana gave me a small smile, her eyes shining as she held back a chuckle.

"True, you were always hot headed and eager to be the hero. But you were the best I had seen in a long time, you still are. I haven't been able to get a significant lead on Cicada since you left." The feeling of being trapped grew as I shook my head vigorously. A strong urge to kick 47 bubbled up inside, as I cursed him for putting me in this situation. It must have been his plan all along to coerce me with Diana into joining the ICA again.

"I can't, not with Seren. She'll be too vulnerable in the field." The idea of pursuing the very people trying to find us with Seren in tow was not my favourite plan.

"She can stay with me." I blinked in astonished silence at Diana's offer. It was then I realised that she wasn't going to except no for an answer. There was a part of me that wanted to take apart Cicada for all that they'd done to me, once and for all, but then an aching hollow fear pulled at my stomach at the thought of leaving Seren here.

"No. This place isn't safe. It's too exposed and what's to say Victoria wouldn't try something again?" I set my jaw and stared fiercely at the duo, refusing to budge. "She needs me."

I was aware of 47 tensing up next me and my eyes were drawn automatically to him. The hostile glare he was giving me knocked me off balance and I had to gather all my courage to hold his gaze. "Why are you being so stubborn about this Morgan? She'll be fine here, you're not her mother." He hissed the words at me in a quiet voice, but I recoiled at his last statement like he had shouted it at me.

"But I am." I spat back.

"To her yes, but she needs to know the truth eventually." Now his voice was rising. Diana watched our heated exchange, her part in the conversation forgotten as I felt that familiar frustrated anger rise up inside me.

"That is the truth." My voice was growing in volume to match his and I could feel my muscles bunching as his lip curled nastily.

"She was made in a lab. Just because she was made from me you think you can adopt her and right the wrongs you think were inflicted on me? That still doesn't make her yours." His words stung. I had no idea where this animosity had come from. His usually calm exterior had split and waves of frustrated anger flowed off of him. I felt myself standing, my fists clenched in tight balls by my side.

"Are you completely fucking blind 47? Why do you think I chose to save her? It wasn't just your name I saw above her cot, there was mine too! So I think you'll find…I am her mother!" My voice bounced off the slate walls, and several security guards dashed in, reaching for their weapons. Diana held up a languid hand halting their progress, her eyes never leaving 47 and me.

His anger faded but his eyes remained dark. The silence grew between us like a wall, my hands were shaking and my breathing was erratic. I had wanted to tell him since he had decided to stay at the farm, but there had never been a good time. Now I wasn't sure if I should ever have told him at all. The dark look was spreading to his whole face now and I didn't know what to do. Diana decided it was time to interject as she waved her raised hand forcefully, sending the poised guards away again.

"She is telling the truth 47." Her level tone cut through the tension, and I felt myself deflating as 47 finally turned away from me and look at her incredulously.

"How do you know?" Diana was unperturbed by his brusque manner and casually shrugged.

"I did a DNA test on the child. She only has two donors, obviously one is yourself, the other is Morgan." Confusion clouded my jumbled thoughts.

"When did you do that?"

"I took a blood sample while I was helping her get ready. I have the facilities to perform a rudimentary DNA test and as protocol dictates we have DNA records of all agencies operatives. Past and present." I pressed a hand to my forehead trying to come to terms with all that had just happened. 47 was attempting to do the same it appeared as he was suddenly on his feet, looking between Diana and me. I stayed still, waiting to see what he would do next. The news had obviously come as a shock to him and I didn't blame him.

After surveying us both for what felt like an age he steadied his piercing gaze on my face, his expression unreadable. "You should have told me." He finally said to me, his voice quiet.

"I was going to but the time was never right on the farm. And then the attack happened and-"

"No. You should have told me when you found her." He snapped at me, cutting me off as I tried to babble an explanation. Without another word he turned sharply on his heels and strode out of the dining room. I stared after him open mouthed.

"It's better he knows. I'm surprised he didn't figure it out for himself." I turned slowly to look at Diana, she was regarding me coolly, her hands pressed together, her chin balanced on the tips of her fingers. I let out a long sigh, my body sagging visibly. "I know why you don't trust me. You know I planned to kill those clones in Romania." I didn't respond. All the energy had been sucked from my bones by the drama of the past hour. Diana didn't need me to contribute however, as she continued on with her speech.

"I can give you my word, however much it's worth, that I won't let anything harm Seren. You made your decision five years ago and I would be a fool to try and reverse that. You were a promising handler Morgan, and gifted hacker, you still are. You can't take down Cicada alone, and neither can I from our weakened position. You're very smart, it's the reason I believe they chose to use your DNA to make her. You know as well as I that this is our one good chance of getting rid of this cancer that has spread. If we leave it too long they will catch up with you and the girl, and even with 47 looking out for you, as I am sure he will, they will win." She paused and fixed me with her reasoning stare.

"He will come round. But what do you say Morgan? Do you run? Or do you fight?" I held her gaze for a beat then dropped my head to look at the already stained bandage wound round my knife wound. There would likely be more of that if I agreed, but at least I wouldn't be running anymore. At least I could try and change our circumstances rather than hiding from them.

"Okay. I'll do it." I murmured, keeping my eyes fixed on the dark, red bloom spreading across the white gauze. I could hear the smile in Diana's voice as she replied.

"Excellent. Welcome back Peregrine."

…

I walked quietly down the dark corridor, my mind too busy to sleep. I had tucked in Seren and read to her, the poetic words from my Uncle's book sounding alien in this unfamiliar environment. As I had attempted to extract myself from her arms she had gripped me tighter and whispered in a lost voice.

"I miss them ma. Gelert and Uncle Rudy. Will I really never see them again?" I had hugged her fiercely, feeling the sting of tears in my eyes as I kissed her soft hair.

"No cariad. I'm sorry." She had buried her face deeper into my side so her voice was muffled and I had to strain to hear her.

"I don't want you to leave. Promise you won't." I knew she was talking about dying, still her words were all the more poignant after what I had agreed to downstairs.

"I can't promise that, but I can promise I'll do everything I can to come back to you if I do." She didn't respond, and I held her, unmoving until I finally felt her drift off to sleep.

I wasn't sure where I was going, I was just wandering Diana's vast mansion home, hoping tiredness would find me eventually. I hadn't seen 47 since he had disappeared after my confession of Seren's true origins. In truth it baffled me why the agency had chosen my DNA to merge with his, but they had their reasons. It was something I hoped to find out while I was hunting Cicada.

I found myself walking up a flight of stairs; there were only a few guards patrolling now. I assumed the others had moved outside giving the household some privacy at night. I was a little nervous I would suddenly run into Victoria, or a still angry 47 but so far the mansion had remained silent. I reached another corridor, this one had fewer doors and from blinking red security cameras positioned all around I guessed these were Diana's rooms. All the doors closest to me only had a normal key lock keeping them secure, the door at the far end however appeared to have a keypad of some sort.

I edged along the corridor, keeping out of sight of the security cameras as best I could, my curiosity piqued. It had been a while, but if I was really going to go back into the field against an army of hackers I had better start practicing. Reaching the far door I assessed the keypad. It looked fairly archaic, nothing I didn't recognise. I pulled out my trusty mobile and began setting to work on Diana's security system. It was a little fiddly accessing it from a phone, but I had built this device with the sole purpose of hacking into systems on the took me a little longer than normal, but then again I was out of practice. Once in I isolated the floor I was on, turning off the security cameras and then focusing my attention on the lock.

It took me ten minutes but finally I heard a small beep and then a click, before the lock's light flashed green. Bingo! I smiled to myself, just like riding a bike. I pushed open the door and let my eyes adjust to the dark room. It was a fairly unassuming room; there were filing cabinets along one side but apart from that it was empty except for a desk set against the far wall with a computer setup on it. My heart began to pound as I tiptoed further into the room, moving towards the familiar looking arrangement of screens. I stopped in front of the desk, my hands drifted over the keyboard placed in front of the arc of three expensive computer monitors. My fingers tingled as I caressed the keys, gliding smoothly over its surface. They reached the end of the keyboard and I paused as I spotted the item lying so casually next to it.

I reached out towards the normal looking pair of headphones, with a slim microphone curving out from them. I could feel my pulse beating in my ears as I gingerly picked up the headset and brought it to eye level. This must be where Diana communicated with 47 in the field. Previously she had operated from her the yacht the _Jean Danjou,_ but I guessed Cicada had done its job well bringing the ICA down. Apparently even its Director was having to make cutbacks.

I turned the headset over in my hands, examining the smooth, black plastic in the low light. Amazing how such a mundane object could hold so many memories and promise so much danger. My heart was a racing staccato beat now, I had changed a lot in five years but seeing the echoes of my old life fleshed out in front of me had sent a lightning bolt to that long dormant part of me. Slowly I returned the headset to its place and began backing out of the room. Only time would tell if I had made the right decision, but I knew one thing for sure; this life had a habit of calling to me like a siren song, and 47 was its conductor.


	16. Chapter 15

47

Chapter 15

I stood impatiently in front of the door to Victoria's room, staring lethally at the two guards posted there.

"She said not to let anyone in." One of the amateurs whined at me balefully.

"I'm not anyone. Move aside." I tried to keep my voice even but the guards still shared a nervous glance. There was a brief standoff before they wisely decided to step to the side and I strode briskly through the door. I wasn't entirely sure why I had come here, I had just wanted to get away from Morgan before I said, or did something I regretted.

The room was dark but my eyes adjusted quickly to the gloom. I had been in here only once before, in similar circumstances, except last time it had been Diana Victoria had tried to attack not the unnatural progeny of my former handler and me. I stepped cautiously into the room, shutting the door softly behind me, cutting off the only light source from the corridor outside. Now the room was only partially lit by moonlight, coming in through the large window at the far end. I strained my hearing trying to pinpoint Victoria's whereabouts. I would have been foolish to underestimate the girl; I had seen her in action and her abilities had certainly been heightened with age and pent up aggression.

Moving silently further into the room I scanned the shadows, searching for any abnormalities. Finally my eyes settled on a detached shape leaning by the window, her green eyes glinted as she saw me catch sight of her. I let out a small sigh and walked towards the girl hiding in the corner. The outline of her face became clearer as I drew closer, the moonlight giving an eerie ethereal glow to her young features. She still had to crane her neck to look up at me, all the anger from early had gone, replaced by a haunting sadness that made me feel uncomfortable.

Even though I knew she was in her late twenties now, I still saw the young girl I had rescued all those years ago. It felt like a different life, before things had become truly complicated with the agency, before I had met Morgan. Sometimes I longed to go back to those simpler times, when I had just been expected to carry out my contracts and not have to deal with all the politics and emotions that the latter years had brought.

"Have you come to lecture me? Because I warn you, I'm not really in the mood." Her quiet voice still held all the weight of a threat as I stared down into her fierce eyes. I felt the now familiar pull at the corner of my mouth; I had forgotten how much Morgan reminded me of her. Looking back on it, it was probably what had stopped me killing her outright when she had blown my cover, however that first impression had changed drastically once I had got to know her. Victoria had never wanted to be a part of this world, and knew when to listen and to not act impulsively. Morgan on the other hand, although brilliant, was irrational and made decisions based on her emotions. She had also jumped at the chance to join the agency, seemingly unconcerned by its macabre purpose. A fact that had always puzzled me.

"No. No lecture." She relaxed, her shoulders dropping. She turned away from me to look out of the window; I could feel the unhappiness leaking off of her.

I wasn't entirely sure when things had gone wrong here, I had noticed Diana becoming more distracted during contracts, sometimes missing obvious things, and in the rare occasions we had met face to face I had seen the toll her home life was taking on her physically. After a few months of this Diana called me to the mansion; that was when the attack had taken place. Victoria had been in a bad mood all day and my impromptu arrival had tipped over the edge. She had begun shouting at Diana, accusing her of trying to send her away again. Diana had tried to calm Victoria but things had got out of hand and no one had been prepared when Victoria had flew at her guardian, knocking her to the floor and attempting to throttle her. Even I had been caught off guard, but after she had thrown one security guard backwards with a casual flick of her arm I had stepped in and restrained her.

Afterwards Diana had informed me she had summoned me there to discuss her stepping down as my handler. I was reluctant to agree but had hoped it would alleviate the tension between her and Victoria. I could see how much the girl meant to her, regardless of how impractical she had become Diana refused to give her up. In some ways what was happening with Morgan was mirroring those events almost perfectly.

 _Except_ , I thought bitterly, _Victoria had not been Diana's blood relation._ I was still digesting the truth of the girl's lineage; my anger at Morgan for hiding it from me was unreasonable but at the same time uncontrollable.

I shook myself out of my thoughts, unclenching my fists that I had unconsciously been holding rigidly by my sides. Victoria hadn't noticed my attention drifting as she stood still next to me, her face half lit by moonlight. "I wasn't going to hurt her you know." Her words brought me fully back to the present. She kept her face turned away from me, her expression hard to read in the low light.

"I know." I murmured in reply. Despite the dramatic scenes I had seen Victoria's intent hadn't been to harm the child, she had merely wanted to provoke her to prove a point. If anything my reaction had been to defend Victoria from Morgan, who had indeed been intending to harm the girl if she got too close.

Victoria finally looked at me, a grateful relief etched onto her face. I had done my best to distance myself from her once I had returned her safely to Diana, but she had always looked so pleased to see me when I did visit. It made me uncomfortable the way she looked at me, like I was someone to follow, a voice of authority. I prided myself on being able to change my skin when the situation commanded it, I could be literally anyone, except a role model. That was something I never wanted to be. Unfortunately Victoria thought differently.

"I was just trying to show them the truth 47. Why doesn't anyone ever see what's right in front of them?" My jaw tightened at her comment. As much as I hated to admit it I should have seen the truth about Seren sooner. Suddenly Morgan's willingness to flee and hide from the agency, from me, made a lot more sense. Had it been just another clone, or even just a copy of me, she may have felt differently about her options in Satu Mare. But coming face to face with a child that was half you, that is not something a rational mind could process easily.

"The truth is not always something people want to see." Victoria stared at me for a moment before nodding sagely. It had been a while since I had last seen her, and the episode downstairs had worried me. "Are you okay?"

The question slipped out, surprising both of us. She blinked up at me for a second, then her expression hardened and the simmering resentment from early burned behind her eyes. "Not really. But you already knew that." There was a bitter edge to her voice again, and I sensed her spiky energy beginning to build. I regarded her for a moment, letting her calm down again before proceeding with my next question.

"The girl is going to be staying here for a while." Victoria's green eyes flashed dangerously but she didn't interrupt me. "Can you do me a favour and not try and provoke her?" She narrowed her eyes at me, assessing me in silence.

"Fine, for you." She turned to look out the window again, the moonlight reflected off the calm waters of Lake Michigan creating a wall of silver light that lit up the night. If I were performing a contract here, this would be the night to do it. It made the use of artificial light redundant. We stood quietly together, Victoria staring forlornly at the world outside her prison and me surreptitiously gauging her body language, watching for any agitation.

She shifted, her hard expression fading to one of shy contriteness. "You can tell your 'friend' she can relax, I'll look out for the girl while you're both gone." I frowned down at her, her choice of words jarring me. Before I could ask her what she meant she had turned her body to face me full on, a bitter smirk twisting her lips. "She's going with you I presume?"

I raised one eyebrow imperiously causing her smirk to widen. "I'll take that as a yes." She held back a snort. I could feel my expression darkening unconsciously as I predicted where this conversation was headed. Victoria had grown bolder in her isolation, her frustration releasing itself in the form of ill placed courage most of the time when it came with me nowadays. When I had first met her she had been afraid to ask me even simple questions, now she was teasing me in regards to the touchy subject of mine and Morgan's relationship. Not that I would call it that at present.

"She is an invaluable asset in the field, when she's not being unruly that is." This time she did snort, "She likes you. I can see it." I broke her gaze; uncertain whether my expressions were betraying me. I wasn't quick enough as Victoria continued in a blunt tone.

"You like her too. You look at her differently to Diana." I felt my muscles tense as her observation alarmed me. Victoria was more perceptive than most people, but her easy analysis of my body language was still concerning.

My head snapped round to fix her with a hard glare, wiping the smirk from her face instantly as she shrank back into the shadows. "I'm sorry. I'm just telling you what I saw." Her voice had become small and childlike, and I felt my expression soften automatically at the sound of her fear. Up until I had met Morgan, Victoria had been one of the only people to illicit that kind of response from me. In hindsight it had probably been a sign of my growing weakness, one I should have paid more attention to.

"I would advise you to stop 'seeing' Victoria, it could get you into trouble." Even though my voice was not unkind she still averted her gaze, chagrin clear on her face. I pushed aside the awkward subject of Morgan and me; I had come here for a reason although it hadn't been clear at the time. "How are your…moods? Have they improved?"

Her green eyes locked with mine in the dim moonlight, her mouth set in a grim line. "No. If anything they're getting worse." She let out a mournful sigh, the embarrassment she had displayed at probing into my personal affairs still evident. "I don't tell Diana about half of them, she only becomes more strict if I do."

I raised a hand to rub wearily at my eyes; it had been a trying day. I was built to handle extreme conditions, violence, injury and death, not act as a therapist and withstand all this emotional drama. "How bad are they?" Victoria seemed reluctant to answer my question, almost scared.

"At least once a day." Her words were heavy with guilt.

"And the impulse?" I nudged gently.

"The same. To kill." I regretted probing, things were worse here than I had previously thought. The years melted off Victoria as she stared desperately up at me. "Do you think it will ever go away? This feeling." I kept my expression carefully blank, but a tight knot of guilt had begun to form in my stomach. Why was I feeling remorse? It wasn't my fault, I hadn't created her or the child. Despite my averseness I placed a hand lightly on Victoria's shoulder.

"I don't know. It never has for me, but then again I never truly tried to fight who I was. Not like you." It wasn't much, but I didn't know what else to say. She had been created like me to be a killing machine, it was possible she would be driven to kill for the rest of her existence. All she could hope to do was resist it. But for how long? I squeezed her shoulder gently, then let my hand fall away to my side.

Victoria nodded, her hopeful look disappearing to one of resigned despair. "I hope it does. I can't bare being confined like this, I know it's for my own good but I feel like a caged animal. In some ways it's no better than being back with the Doctors." I frowned down at her as her sad words sunk in. There was little I could do for her except talk to Diana, but she was convinced she was doing the right thing and not much could change her mind once it was made. I gave Victoria a curt nod, my time here with her through.

"I'll be leaving soon. Remember what I asked, that girl needs to remain safe." Her eyes began to harden once more, my tone signalling my impending departure.

"Sure thing." She didn't seem about to offer anything else, so I turned slowly and made my way towards the door. "47?" I stopped abruptly, her lost voice tugging at that unwelcome part of me. Glancing over my shoulder I saw she had stepped out of the shadows, the pale light from her window illuminating half of her small frame. I didn't respond, just stood still watching and waiting for her to speak.

"Can you…can you not tell Diana what I said. About my…impulses." I assessed the sad looking girl. I wish things had turned out differently for her, but she was just another example of why we shouldn't fight who we are. She grew agitated under my silent gaze.

"Of course not Victoria." She beamed a relieved smile, her eyes shining noticeably with suppressed tears.

"Thank you." She whispered. I nodded solemnly then turned and left her room as quietly as I had entered. The two security guards gave me anxious looks as I strode past them, heading off down the corridor towards my room. I still wasn't ready to see Morgan again, my uneasy anger towards her still smouldering deep in my abdomen. The fact was she had kept important intel from me about the girl, not to mention breaking my trust when she had run away from the agency with her. It was something I couldn't tolerate in a handler, and that was why I had brought her here, to bring her back to the ICA and re-establish her as my partner to take down Cicada.

As I entered my room I set about preparing my gun for cleaning, a task that always cleared my head. I began the methodical process and let my mind drift away from all the unnecessary drama Morgan had dragged back into my life. I was angrier than I had ever been at her; still, it was better than her being dead.

…

The insistent tapping of fingers on keys alerted me to Morgan's presence as I entered the main living area. I kept my footsteps light as I moved further into the room; she was sat on one of the couches, a laptop balanced on her knees. The hazy afternoon light made her brown hair glow auburn, her brow puckered in concentration as she continued typing. She didn't look up until I was almost upon her; her expression was impassive though, unaffected by my sudden appearance. She was getting harder to creep up on, in some ways this was a gratifying thing, but in others her increased perception was unwelcome.

"I think I've found the shit head who hired you to kill me." I stared at the fierce looking woman in front of me. Her manner had changed since last night, an invisible line had been drawn between us and she had become chilling professional when interacting with me. Relief had been my overriding emotion at this abrupt shift towards the comfortable territory I was used to with Diana, however that small, niggling part of my psyche that I refused to acknowledge kept pinching at the back of my mind. It was an irritant, and if I was to probe into its source I was pretty sure I would find a hollow sadness at Morgan's newfound distance with me.

She let out a long exasperated sigh dragging me back from my troubling thoughts. Her brown eyes were narrowed at me, her mouth set in a thin line as she took in my blank expression. "Well, the shit head who was told by Cicada central to kill me if you want me to be more specific." I watched, somewhat amused, as her frustration at my silence appeared to grow. She turned her attention back to the screen in front of her and began scrolling through the intel she had been gathering.

I stood motionless, taking in her darting eyes as they sped back forth across the text whizzing by at a speed I would find hard to read myself. "Who?" I prompted impatiently. One thing I had found to be aggravating about Morgan was that she liked me to respond before continuing.

Her eyes flashed to me, they were sharp like flint as she ceased scrolling, a portrait of a man filling her laptop screen. "The right honourable Judge Horatio Carter, purveyor of justice in the fair city of Chicago and general whipping dog of Cicada Co." I raised an eyebrow at her choice of title; she ignored my expression and ploughed on dispensing her intel to me. "He's your typical highly paid, corrupt arsehole. Cicada used him early on to push through this ludicrous bill on micro chipping all electronics, he made a case for its merits for safety in front of congress. He's also helped put away anyone who's tried to wreck Cicada's image; you name it, journalists, protestors, hackers, they've all magically disappeared behind bars if they even so much as sneezed at Cicada."

I folded my arms, regarding Morgan expectantly. "All very impressive, but it seems a little risky for him to take out a contract openly with the ICA." Her mouth twisted into a grim smirk as she shook her head.

"He didn't do it openly. He encoded the shit out of his correspondence with Diana, or at least some goon from Cicada did. Nearly did a good job too, kept the agency off his case at least." I couldn't help my mouth twitching up at the corner, the conversation between us was so familiar I nearly forgot Morgan's betrayal with Seren. Her eyes widened slightly at my unexpected response to her quip at Diana.

"So why use him at all if they were just going to cover his identity?" Morgan's smirk turned into a smile as she raised a finger in front of her face.

"Ah, this is the thing. They needed his right honourable sell out to draw up the terms of said contract and oversee the agency's agreement to it. Apparently there were a lot of clauses to my execution and Seren's kidnapping." I felt my brow furrowing in confusion at her remark.

"Clauses?" The change in Morgan's expression was instant and surprising. Her eyes grew to two large saucers, before she let out a loud, barking laugh that echoed off the stark mansion walls. I felt my carefully built wall tremble against the sound, it had been so long since I heard her laugh like that and I had to fight hard not to let myself react to it, keeping my face an unreadable blank slate.

"Yes, clauses 47. You know, that you find in a contract? Mostly they are just kill this person in this way and we'll pay you this much, but they still need to be written up." My eyebrows shot up at her explanation, I had never thought to ask what handlers were responsible for outside what directly affected me. Clearly Morgan found my ignorance highly entertaining, her face which had carried a constant air of worry and solemnity was now spilt into a large grin, her brown eyes twinkling up at me. She suddenly looked exactly as I had pictured her when she had haunted me in the depths of my guilty despair.

The wall keeping my emotions at bay was looking disturbingly unstable, until a flash of last night's dramatic conversation surfaced and filled in the gaping holes in my defences. Morgan's grin faded as she watched my features darken, her eyebrows pulling together in a frown as the atmosphere dipped a few degrees below zero. Good, distance was what we needed. I had got my way and ensured she joined the agency to help us, now I just needed to block her out while we worked to take Cicada down.

"So he was the mouthpiece for Cicada. Any chance he knew others in the group?" I made sure to insert enough ice into my tone to eradicate the last of Morgan's teasing. Her eyes hardened in response.

"Diana seems to think so, plus he is the only lead you've had in five years. Doesn't really leave us many options." The muscles in my jaw tightened at the sardonic edge to her words. It was a reflex, deep down I knew her well enough to recognise her coping mechanism for when I upset her.

"What's the plan then?" She turned her cold, hurt gaze back to the screen.

"We intercept and interrogate him."

"And after?" She thought for a moment before shrugging nonchalantly.

"One less corrupt Judge in the system I suppose." I raised an eyebrow at her insinuated order.

"One less member of Cicada." I murmured back in a menacing tone. She gave me a sideways look, her mouth set in a grim line.

"Exactly. I'll work out the logistics and get back to you. Although I imagine starting sooner rather than later is the best option." I nodded once, assessing the woman in front of me, the void between us growing by the second. Turning smartly on my heel I strode out of the room before my wall had any more ideas of breaking.

…

"Byddwch yn dda, cariad."

I watched dispassionately from the side as Morgan gripped Seren tightly in her arms. Scrutinising the child, I tried to find some resemblance to the woman holding her, but all I could see was my own ghost staring back at me. If Diana hadn't done a DNA test, and then shown me the results after much insistence, I would have thought Morgan was lying. Trying to justify why she fled from me when I had shown her nothing but loyalty, it still made my insides crawl with betrayal.

The girl shed no tears as her mother bid her farewell, it was impressive how strong she was, not only physically but emotionally, for her age. I would expect it from a changeling who had been raised in a similar environment to me, but not one cut off from her true origins. It made me wonder if Morgan's fears were in fact true, that no matter how much she tried to shield her from that life it was evitable. Morgan finally let go of her and straightened up, she exchanged a brief word with Diana who was stood to one side of the child, before turning and walking reluctantly towards me. She kept her eyes down, but I was still able to see the wet shine of tears as they gathered in the corners. Diana placed a comforting hand on Seren's slim shoulder, it was a friendly gesture but I noticed the child tense slightly under the strange woman's touch. I hoped Diana knew what she was getting into.

I waited for Morgan to duck into the car, her goodbyes brief and perfunctory. I imagined it was a way of coping with the separation, although I would have no experience of the kind of bond I presumed she and Seren shared. I gave Diana a small, courteous nod before entering the Ford. As I lowered myself into the car Seren's eyes flashed to me, their arresting blue colour appearing to glow in the morning sun. Automatically I stilled, they were the eyes of something familiar, a deep-rooted, knife sharp intelligence I had only seen in one other set of eyes. The girl they belonged to seemed to melt away, leaving in her place a cold, calculating being, capable of much more than first appearances granted. I could see now the small part of Morgan the Doctor's had chosen to favour, Seren's eyes burned into me as I quietly shut the car door and started the engine.

It rumbled to life and I prepared to pull away, eager to be free of the unnerving child's stare. As I reversed Seren's gaze softened and the wide-eyed, fearful innocence I had grown accustomed to since the farm returned. Morgan kept her head down, choosing not to watch her daughter recede into the distance, so I was uncertain whether she had seen the telling look I had witnessed. I manoeuvred the car around so Diana and the child were only visible from my rear view mirror, their dual reflections quivering as I drove down the drive. It had been as if Morgan was looking out from my own eyes, a part of her and me mixed together in an unnatural formation of science. But there had been something else, something I wasn't about to share with the woman sat next to me, weeping silently at her abandonment. I had seen the unmistakable look of a changeling in those eyes, a monster made for killing. Just like me.


	17. Chapter 16

**A/N: Hello all, here is Chapter 16. I am sorry these are coming a little slower than previous but I am still plugging away and fully intend to finish this epic. Thanks for all my reviews so far, each one is essential to me progressing as a writer. As always read, review and enjoy! :)**

Chapter 16

"Go over it again."

"47, I've heard the plan enough times. I'll be reciting it in my sleep at this rate."

"Good. You haven't done this for a considerable time, the more we repeat it the less likely errors will occur." Morgan raised her eyebrows at me languidly, her expression one of immense annoyance. I didn't care, as much as she had adjusted back into her role as handler fairly efficiently, she had still shown a stubborn reluctance to begin with. I was uncertain whether her recent separation from the child was going to cloud her judgement and make her a problem.

She regarded me icily for a moment before sighing in defeat. "Fine." She knelt down by the bed where numerous bits of paper and photos were arranged haphazardly on the cover. It looked like chaos but I knew Morgan could read it like a book. Her laptop was also open and placed to one side of the crazy map of paper. "Carter finishes work at 1800 every day, he leaves the office via the secure underground garage and heads to his home in the Glencoe suburb."

Her eyes flicked from the mass of intel in front of her to me, her expression fierce with concentration. "Once he reaches his home it will be hard to extract him for interrogation, so we will have to intercept before he gets there. He has a brand new Audi, with a built in self-drive system. It contains an 'un-hackable' Cicada Co microchip which is bad news for most people unless you just happen to have the algorithm for busting into one of those bad boys contained on your mobile device." A mock shocked expression came over her face as she lifted her old mobile up. "Well what do you know, I have that right here."

I tilted my head to one side, my demeanour stern. I needed her to take this seriously for once. Her stupid expression dropped instantly, and she glared at my rigid posture. "Unfortunately I need to improve the range on my phone. I don't think I will have the time to hack a moving vehicle if it is driving by me, so you're job is to insert a booster in the Audi so I have enough time to gain control." I nodded once, picking it up as she looked at me expectantly.

"I'll infiltrate the garage and hide this on the vehicle." I held up the small rectangular piece of plastic that Morgan claimed was a signal booster. She stared grimly at it as I continued. "Once in place I'll wait for the target to enter the vehicle then tail it until you've taken control, and driven it _safely_ to the agreed drop off point." Her mouth twitched as I emphasised the word safely.

"I'll do my best. Once you have the target you'll destroy the vehicle and we'll meet at the location near Tuma Lake." She stood up slowly, resting her laptop on one hip as she looked at me coolly, her voice a flat monotone.

"Then you'll do your thing to make him squeal and we'll hopefully have the next piece in this never-ending nightmare of a jigsaw." I tensed ever so slightly at the dismissive way she mentioned my ability to torture people. This new Morgan was a lot more comfortable with violence than the girl I had known. I shook the uncomfortable thought from my mind and idly picked up one of the many photos Morgan had taken of our target. The paunchy looking man stared into the distance as he exited his modern looking office block. His beady eyes were narrowed against the sun's glare and his dropping mouth was pulled into an unattractive grimace. He looked corrupt, I didn't usually get emotionally attached to my work but I had the feeling I would enjoy 'making him squeal' as Morgan put it.

"Morgan, you will stay in the room until we need to meet." She turned to look at me again as I pressed my point for what felt like the thousandth time. Her brow furrowed in annoyance at my persistence, I needed to make sure she wouldn't try and get involved like she usually did. Keeping her out of the field had always been a challenge when we had worked together before.

"Yes 47, I will. If you do everything your end I won't need to leave my computer." I ignored her pointed remark; all I needed was her obedience in this. I wasn't sure my wall would hold if she was constantly in danger, it had been far too distracting in the past. "And while we're at it you'd better start calling me Peregrine again." I raised an eyebrow at her in quiet surprise. She rolled her eyes at my quizzical look. "Diana thought it best to use codenames again. Seeing as we are going on the offensive it reduces the collateral damage if anyone is listening."

I could tell by the pragmatic language that she was repeating Diana's words. I shrugged once, acknowledging this change in address. With a tired sigh she turned and busied her self with preparations for tomorrow. I glanced down at the mess on the bed, dropping the photo in my hand so it fluttered down to rest with the others. It had been a long time since I was this on edge before a job, but I knew despite her down sides, having Peregrine back on side was our best chance of eliminating Cicada thoroughly.

I took the plans for the office building with me as I sat in a chair in the corner of the hotel room and let my eyes scan the page. I could feel the nervous energy building as the shadow of my handler moved about in my peripheral; I tried to dispel it by ingraining my route to and from the garage into my mind.

…

Chicago was alive in the early winter sun. The temperature was already dropping and the pedestrians were bustling through the city wrapped up against the unwelcome cold. I had my long coat on even though I felt no discomfort in this climate, but I would have stood out if I had been standing in the street in just my suit. I had positioned myself discreetly across the road from the edifice of glass that was Judge Carter's office. I was stood in a doorway letting the river of people flow in front of me, as I kept my gaze fixed on the revolving doorway opposite me.

"The garage requires a key card and a code which changes daily. Overkill isn't even the word." Perry's voice was tinged with irritation as it spoke directly into my earpiece. It was going to take some adjusting to become accustomed to her sarcastic, lilting tone again, but I felt some part of me relax at the sound of her voice. "The system protecting the garage is a little too advanced for me to do on the fly, but I can definitely get you on the office visitor list." I heard her tapping in the background as my gaze zeroed in on a man in dark blue coveralls clutching a toolbox as he moved past me and headed down a side street.

"Put me down as a maintenance man." I murmured into my hidden microphone as I moved out of the shadow of the doorway and followed the man down the alley.

"Ummm, okay. You got a plan?" I let out a low snort in response to her condescending question. The coverall man had stopped about halfway down the narrow street and was talking animatedly into a phone. There was no foot traffic here and a quick glance of my surroundings confirmed this was the ideal place to hide an unconscious body. The coveralls were a little too big for his frame, but they would fit me fine. Perry had gone quiet; I could feel her attention on me as I silently walked up behind the unsuspecting man.

"Yeah, Frank I know ok. Look I'm late what more do you want me to say? If that rich arsehole can't wait for me then tell him he's going to have to get a taxi." I slowed slightly, waiting for the man to finish his phone call. It always intrigued me listening to snippets of people's normal lives; they always sounded so mundane and inconsequential. "Right, right, I got it. I'll be there in twenty ok?"

The disgruntled coverall man hung up his mobile and let out an irritated growl. The sound was cut off abruptly as I wrapped a strong arm around his throat and held him steady as he struggled against me. He was out within seconds and I quickly stripped him to his vest and shorts as I shrugged off my coat and suit jacket. I fastened the coverall and dumped the unconscious man along with my clothes into a nearby dumpster.

"Beautifully done." Peregrine commented in a flat voice, the tapping resuming in my earpiece. "Okay, you're on the list as Frank Johnson. Due to do maintenance on the garage safety system." I adjusted the oil-stained coveralls and picked up the abandoned toolbox.

"Frank?" I goaded her quietly.

"The guy said Frank, I'm rusty okay. You can't always be called Tobias Rieper." She sounded flustered, and because I knew she couldn't see me I indulged in a small half smile as I strode purposefully out of the alley and made my way across the street. Keeping my head down as I joined the crowd of businessmen and women entering the office, I avoided the silent penetrating stare of the security cameras posted at the entrance. I noticed a few of the faceless suits giving me an odd look as I passed through the revolving door into the large, glass atrium inside. My grubby disguise standing out like a sore thumb amongst the well-dressed tenants of the office. I scanned the edges of the vast reception, pinpointing the position of the many cameras.

"I'm dealing with them now." I heard Perry mutter under her breath, as if she had read my mind. I walked slowly towards the imposing granite reception desk in the centre of the atrium, watching the cameras out of the corner of my eye. After a few minutes the red light signalling the cameras were active flickered and turned a slightly different shade of red. "There you go. No one will see you now."

I lengthened my stride, lifting my head now the constant risk of being seen had been neutralised. It had been so long since I had worked with Peregrine, I had forgotten how easy she made things. With her the technological advances in security were no longer an inconvenience, they could be used to my advantage.

The thin-lipped receptionist lifted her head as I made my way towards her. She registered my ill-fitting coveralls first, her mouth twisting in disdain before her gaze slid up to my face. A badly disguised look of shock flitted behind her eyes, and I sighed internally. Blending in was a primary part of my job, but I was well aware my anatomy made it hard to be discreet, especially when it came to the opposite sex. I had become accustomed to the appreciative looks women threw at me even though I paid them no attention, I had even caught Perry looking at me in the same way from time to time.

I let an inane smile spread across my face now as I approached the immaculately dressed receptionist. Her face automatically began to smile back before she cleared her throat loudly and attempted to arrange her features into a neutral position once more. Social interactions had always remained a mystery to me, but I was committed enough to my job to understand how to manipulate people and find out what made them tick.

"Can I help you?" Her clipped tone was only slightly marred by unease as she kept her eyes locked on my face. I adopted a harmlessly foolish expression, trying to soften the angular edge to my shoulders.

"I hope so Miss. I was asked to come here to see to your garage downstairs. Apparently you've had some problems with the security system." Her plucked eyebrows shot up and her brow puckered in surprised confusion as she tore her eyes away from me finally to stare at her computer. She began tapping away furiously, scanning the screen for answers.

"I wasn't aware of this. I'm afraid I'll need to check the system, what's your name?"

"Frank Johnson." I lied smoothly. Peregrine let out a soft snort in my ear; I was aware she was listening in, watching the prim receptionist as she frantically tried to regain her composure.

"Doesn't know what to make of you this one. Can't decide if you repulse or attract her." I ignored her snide comment, keeping my wide-eyed, innocent gaze on the first obstacle in my path.

"Johnson, Johnson. Oh, here you are." I shifted from one foot to the other, eager to be done with this charade. The woman looked back up at me, her cheeks colouring slightly under my unwavering scrutiny. "The elevator to the garage level is right over there." She suddenly looked sheepish, flicking a glance to either side of me as the never-ending river of businessmen and women swept passed me. "In future Mr Johnson, it's probably best to use the service entrance. The people there will be expecting…you" I suppressed a wry smile, simply widening my grin and nodding at the condescending woman.

"Thank you miss, I'll be sure I do." I shot her a wink and watched with satisfaction as she averted her eyes, her face turning an interesting shade of beetroot. As I strode towards the elevator door she had indicated I heard Perry mutter in my ear, "Fuck your service entrance, bitch." This time I couldn't stop the half smile from lifting the corner of my mouth; even with all her annoying foibles she certainly was more entertaining than Diana.

I surveyed the atrium as I waited for the elevator to arrive. Step one complete, now I needed to find a key card and a willing volunteer to give me the code. Perry was clearly on the same thought process as she said in a louder voice than her slur before, "Cameras near the garage entrance show a security guard. He looks like he is on his own."

The elevator let out a muted ping as it signalled its arrival, the doors slid open on an empty space and I sidestepped neatly inside. They opened again on a narrow corridor lined with stainless steel panels. A single doorway faced me with no others present, by process of elimination I assumed this was the door to the garage. Just as Perry had said there was a lone security guard sat on a flimsy folding chair staring intently at his phone. He started as I stepped purposefully out of the elevator and made my way towards him. Keeping up the persona of a friendly maintenance man I casually whistled a jaunty tune as I walked. I could almost see Perry's surprised expression at my uncharacteristic display, but the guard visibly relaxed and flashed me a sociable grin.

"Alright there?" He called out. Relief evident in his voice at not being caught on his phone by a superior. I returned his grin and came to a smooth stop in front of him and the door.

"Yeah, not bad. I'm here to check the security features. You don't mind do you?"

"I'll need to see some ID." The guard was still smiling at me but I could see the serious intent behind his eyes.

"Your phone 47." Peregrine's cool, unflustered voice filled my head and I began patting down my coveralls theatrically.

"I don't' think I've got a hard copy, but I've got my company details on my work phone. Will that do?" His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and I watched as he assessed me properly for the first time. I pulled out my phone, deliberately fumbling with it and held it out to the guard. He glanced at the screen for a moment then looked back at me, a cheeky look on his face.

"Usually I'd have to say no to you, but that looks legit enough for me. Beside I'm here to supervise, so go ahead." I blew out a breath, feigning relief and pocketed the phone again. I flashed a quick glance at the screen as I did and saw my own face staring back at me, with the name Frank Johnson and details of my role in an official looking company on their website. How had she managed to make that so quickly?

"Thanks, you'd be doing me a favour. My boss is already on at me for losing my last pass and being refused by a load of clients." I could feel the effort of talking like this beginning to drain my energy, and Perry's barely contained chuckles weren't helping.

The guard shrugged in a non-committal way and indicated for me to continue what I was doing. His phone was held poised in his hand, now that he had seen who I was and done his job he was obviously eager to get back to his social media. I turned away from him and focused on the garage door, my lip curling ever so slightly in disdain at the apathetic security guard. I knelt down slowly by the door and placed the toolbox I was carrying by my feet. I busied myself, appearing to work on the two separate locks on the door for a few minutes, all the while staying alert to what the guard was doing. Thankfully this idiot was as useless at his job as I had originally thought, as he didn't look up from his phone once. I slipped my hand into my trouser pocket and produced a small spray bottle of liquid, making sure the guard wasn't looking I covered the keypad in a fine layer of the substance.

After what felt like a suitable amount of time 'working' on the door, I glanced over my shoulder and addressed the oblivious guard. "Would you mind just trying the door? Want to make sure it's working fine." He looked up, a thinly veiled expression of annoyance on his face before he smiled at me and stood up from his chair.

"Sure. Just want me to open it yeah?" I straightened up, towering over the other man. He gave me an unease glance as I stepped to the side allowing him access to the door. My eyes zeroed in on his hand as he slipped it into his pocket, drawing out a sliver key card. He swiped it across the scanner and the door issued a cheerful beep, he stowed the card back in its safe place and moved to the keypad. He shot me a pointed look and I smiled apologetically and turned away, allowing him to punch in the key code without me looking. I heard six decisive clicks as he entered the number of the day and then another cheerful beep rang out signalling the door being open.

I turned back round to see the guard quickly open then shut the door, locking it once more. Maybe he wasn't as stupid as he looked, he clearly felt unsure about leaving the door open with me around. "Looks fine to me. Is that all?" I nodded, keeping my expression friendly. The guard gave me a tight, irritated smile in return and went to sit back down. I waited until his back was to me and quickly grabbed him from behind, subduing him efficiently. Once I felt his body go limp I propped him back in his folding chair, his phone still resting in his hand. Judging by the reaction to me in reception, they were unlikely to look twice at this security guard sleeping on the job. People in positions of power rarely paid attention to those they deemed lower down to them.

I retrieved the key card from his trouser pocket and swiped it across the scanner by the door. Pulling a small torch from underneath my coveralls I shined it on the keypad I had sprayed earlier. The torch emitted a UV light that lit up the pad, six clear fingerprints shone back at me. I had sprayed it with a liquid that would show up in UV light, allowing me to see the numbers that made up today's code when the guard used it. All I needed to do now was find out the order.

"There should be a section on the side you can remove, plug your phone into the port you find there." I ran my finger along the edge of the keypad and prised off a small section of metal off one side. Working quickly I attached a cable Perry had given me for my phone and connected it to the keypad. "Got you. What are the six numbers he pressed?"

"235689." I read out slowly, listening to Peregrine type in each number as I said it.

"Here we go. Fingers crossed." I stood still, the phone resting in my palm as I watched the numbers flash on the display in various combinations. The program Perry was running took thirty seconds before it froze, settling on an order for the numbers and the door emitted its jaunty beep. I quickly unplugged the device and refitted the panel on the side before opening the door to the garage and slipping inside.

The garage was lit by a series of strip lights that stuttered to life as I entered. It looked like any underground garage; a mass of concrete pillars and grey painted floor. Audis and Mercedes ranging from silver to black were parked in the spaces. I scanned the area for any security guards, confident the cameras had already been dealt with. "It's a black Audi, but that description isn't going to be much help." I let out a small, exasperated sigh at Perry's sardonic remark and began walking between the line of cars, scanning the licence plates as I passed each likely candidate. Finally I spotted the plate I was looking for; it was parked in the far corner of the garage in view of two cameras. Flicking a glance up I saw them both turn conveniently away as I approached the target's car.

I knelt down and retrieved the signal booster from my trouser pocket. Peregrine had fitted an industrial strength magnet to it so all I had to do was slid my hand under the vehicle and let it fix itself to the chaise. It connected with a satisfying clang and I surreptitiously stood up, brushing the dust from my knees. "Excellent work. I'll notify you when the target is on the move."

With one last backwards glance at the car I picked up the toolbox I had stolen and strode purposefully across the garage, slipping out via the service entrance.

…

"We have lift off."

I raised my eyes to the roof of the car as I listened to Perry's unorthodox signal. The entrance to the garage was just visible from my parking spot on the street outside; I kept my eyes trained on the heavy sliding doors waiting for the tiniest movement.

"Elvis is leaving the building." I clenched my jaw as the garage doors began to rise.

"Peregrine." I growled in a low, warning tone. As much as her light-hearted comments were positive, in as much as she wasn't dwelling on leaving the child, I still wished she would maintain a more professional manner when dealing with me. Then I remembered that this was what it had been like before she went off the rails and disappeared, this was what I had missed.

I silenced the unsettling thoughts careening around my head as the sleek, black Audi of Judge Horatio Carter ghosted out of the garage. Turning the key in the Ford's ignition, I winced slightly at the loud rumble of the engine. The draw back of insisting on using a manual drive, petrol car was the conspicuous noise it made in amongst the silent electric cars. I waited for the Audi to pull onto the road and drive away before slowly pulling out after it.

"Stay in pursuit, I'm going to patch the feed from the car through once I have control." I noted her tone was a lot colder than before, as if my reprimand had hit home. A twinge of guilt tugged at my chest before I mentally chastised myself for thinking about her feelings during a job. I kept a few cars between me and the Audi as it turned onto Michigan Avenue and merged with the flow of traffic. Once his car passed the hotel Perry was located in on his route, we would be in control of his car and his destination. We made slow progress through the centre of Chicago, I didn't mind however, the rush hour traffic would work to our advantage soon enough. I watched as the target inched closer and closer to the hotel, Peregrine had gone quiet indicating she was deep in concentration. Good, there was hope for her yet.

As the nondescript Audi slid past the gleaming front of the hotel I found myself griping the steering wheel tighter. We needed this to work, the last thing I wanted was for Cicada to get wind of our intentions with a noisy extraction. The best-case scenario would be for us to drive his car all the way to the drop off point without anyone realising what was going on, including him. The frantic sound of typing started up again as Perry set to work. I kept my eyes on Carter's car, not sure what to expect.

After a few minutes I heard Perry let out a relieved laugh, "I did it. We're in." I felt my muscles relax gradually as the train of cars continued their journeys unperturbed. It wasn't that I hadn't trusted Perry to do what she did best, but it had been a long time since she had demonstrated her prowess with a computer. Things had changed since she was last at a keyboard.

Regardless of my misgivings, she had done the impossible and hacked into Cicada's impenetrable microchip. I couldn't help the glow of pride that flickered into existence at her victory. A musical flourish signalled the Audi's on board computer starting up in my ear, in the background I could hear the sound of a car's interior and knew Perry was listening to Horatio Carter.

"Reprogramming the vehicle route. Estimated ETA is twenty minutes." The traffic started to move more smoothly and soon we were leaving the hotel, and Peregrine behind. I kept my distance watching as the black Audi drifted silently up the road. It put me on edge these driverless cars, people were far too trusting of a computer in my opinion. I glanced over to the car next to me, its owner was sat in the drivers seat but they were paying no attention to the road, a newspaper open in front of them. As I watched, the man stopped reading and gave me an odd look, his lip lifting in a contemptuous smirk at my noisy, manual car. I narrowed my eyes at him and turn back to my target, as much as the world's obsession with technology didn't sit well with me, I couldn't deny how it had worked in my favour on more than one occasion. People were so trusting of their silicon helping hands nowadays; they rarely saw what was around them.

"It's like I said David, I'm in court tomorrow so I can't see you then." I frowned slightly as the sound of a man's voice with a thick Chicago accent wafted into my ear. It took me a second to establish that this was Carter talking on his phone. "Oh nobody really, just some open and shut civil matter. An online activist that got a bit too big for their boots if you know what I'm saying…What?...Of course he's guilty, they all are." He let out a loud mocking laugh at his own joke and a dark knot of contempt twisted deep in my gut. I didn't care about a lot of things, but of the few things I did fairness was a big one.

"Sounds like he's swatting another one of Cicada's flies. What a charming man." I tensed at the sound of Perry's voice.

"Can he hear you?" I asked in an urgent tone.

"No, this is a one way circuit, what do you take me for?" She scoffed in reply.

"Yeah, yeah I know…Just driving home now and I'll have a look. Can never be to careful with these things…" I listened with muted interest to Carter's conversation, it was unlikely he would let slip anything substantial on an unsecure line. Still, my curiosity was something that had been encouraged when I was a child, within reason of course. There was a fine line between being perceptive to a target's habits and routines, and being curious of one's own employers. I had always teetered on that invisible line.

"If this traffic would hurry up we would be there in ten. This has been a surprisingly uneventful return outing." I raised an eyebrow even though I knew Perry couldn't see me and sighed.

"We're not at the drop off yet. Let alone anywhere near the secure location, so how about holding off on the reviews for this job until it's over." I shot back in a snide voice.

"You're terribly pessimistic for the best in the business."

"No, I'm the right amount of cautious for the best in the business. Besides I don't like to rank myself, it always prudent to presume there's a bigger fish somewhere." I heard a soft snort in my ear.

"Very philosophical. I'll make sure to write that down." The corner of my mouth twitched as I turned onto Wacker Drive heading west, the traffic was thinning now and I kept the Ford at a steady speed, mimicking the cars around me. Besides the obvious, the other reason my car always stood out was the way I drove. Even with my superior reactions I still couldn't compete with the instantaneous actions of a computer. Self-driving cars didn't deviate in their speed or movements, they were perfect gliding ghosts. Eerie was the word I would use.

She lapsed into silence as I continued behind the now hijacked Audi, Carter wittered on in my ear until he too finally ended his call and calm settled over the sedate pursuit. We maintained a steady pace up Wacker Drive before crossing Lake Street bridge. A couple more lefts and rights and we were only five minutes from the drop off now.

"Nearly there. I'll finish up here and head to the lake." Perry broke the silence as she confirmed my prediction. I heard her get up from her chair then she froze. "What the…" Her exclamation of confusion was interrupted by an abrupt siren, I assumed it was coming from her computer until I heard Carter curse loudly in his car.

"What in god's name?!" A cold wave of clarity swept through me as I sensed our 'uneventful' outing was about to become anything but.

"Talk to me Peregrine." I growled into my microphone.

"How the fuck? That's impossible, I put every fail safe on it." I could hear her rising panic; automatically I gripped the steering wheel tighter, my eyes boring holes into the Audi two cars ahead.

"Perry!" I half shouted, my patience wearing thin.

"They've kicked me out. I don't have control anymore." Cicada, I hissed audibly at the sudden unwelcome turn of events.

"Can you get it back?" I tried to keep my voice level but every nerve in my body was screaming that something awful was about to happen.

"I'm trying." I heard urgent fingers on a keyboard; I could almost picture her narrowed eyes and tongue sticking out in furious concentration. "Shit. It's like the fucking iron curtain has come down." I bit back a curse as I kept a stately speed, the Audi still calmly driving ahead despite the shrill alarm going off inside it. I was aware of Carter shouting at his computer, obviously he was just as surprised by events as we were. I wasn't sure if this made me feel better or not.

"They haven't changed his course, he's still heading for the drop off. What are they doing?" The bewilderment in her tone made my blood chill more than any unexpected alarm, I scanned my surroundings quickly for signs of something unusual or out of place, there was nothing. Just as my gaze was returning to the Audi it jolted forward abruptly and took off up the crowded city street.

"Holy mother of god!" I heard Carter shout.

"Oh no." Perry whimpered simultaneously into my earpiece.

I clenched my jaw, unsure what to do. I didn't want to draw attention to our pursuit of Carter but at the same time he was our only shot at finding another lead on Cicada. Their sudden interference, however unexpected, confirmed our suspicions that he knew others in the organisation. This took only a few seconds to process but it was enough for the black Audi to disappear up the street in a cloud of blue tyre smoke.

I planted my foot on the accelerator and swerved around the cars in front of me. The Ford's petrol engine roared in protest at the rapid change in pace and I saw a sea of eyes fix on me as the noisy car raced after the Audi. "Is he still heading for the drop off?" I snapped over as I took a corner far too fast.

"No, no they've wiped the coordinates. I think someone is operating it remotely." I focused on the road ahead and zeroed in on the retreating Audi in front of me. It wasn't keeping a straight line, it was weaving in and out of traffic and mounting the pavement, causing pedestrians to scatter in panic. Whatever was driving that car, it definitely wasn't a computer anymore.

"You're right. A person is controlling it."

"Motherfuckers." Perry was typing. The sound was non-stop.

"Ideas?" I prompted her as I yanked the wheel avoiding a terrified delivery boy. Everyone was staring at my car as I chased the out of control Audi, but I had a pretty good idea what Cicada's plan was and I had no intention of letting them succeed.

"I'm trying to hack it again but the signal booster isn't doing much at this distance. If I could get on the street and-"

"No!" My shout cut her off.

"47, our options aren't amazing. You can continue this scene from Fast and Furious and end up with massive collateral damage or I can try and cut them off and get control again." I was gaining on the Audi, its mad swerves from side to side slowing it down.

"Stay where you are Perry. I've got this." I snarled at her through gritted teeth. I pushed the Ford faster until I was only a car's length from the Audi. The buildings were passing in a blur as we raced down Canal Street, the river on our left side. All I needed was a clean break and I could shoot out the car's tyres. Although I needed to slow it down first, at this speed a blowout would be catastrophic. I found it oddly ironic that I was racing to save this man's life instead of ending it.

"Oh please, sweet Jesus. I don't know what I've done but I'm sorry, don't do this." I blanched at the sound of Carter begging. He was pleading with someone, or appealing to his leash holders to spare him.

"47, they're going to kill him. Please, I know where you're headed now." Perry's urgent voice drowned out Carter's blubbering petition.

"No. Stay. Where. You. Are." I put emphasis on each word, desperate for this foolish, stubborn girl to finally listen. She let out an exasperated growl.

"Fuck this." Then the sound of her ditching her headset resounded in my earpiece with a deafening clatter.

"Peregrine!" I bellowed, anger and panic mixing in a heady dangerous cocktail inside me. Why did she never listen? The Audi made a sudden turn crossing the river and heading back the way we had come. I ran through my options for slowing the vehicle before Perry got mixed up in all this. If Cicada intended on killing Carter then a head on collision would do it. If I could get to the side and drive him off the road, he would be severely injured but definitely alive enough for us.

I made a turn at the next junction startling an old lady driving a small Fiat. She leant on her horn, the blaring howl of it chasing me down the street. I made a hard left and sped up so I could just about see the Audi flashing past at each junction. I needed to get ahead and cut it off. As I raced along, my petrol engine announcing my progress, I searched the streets for Perry. She wouldn't have been able to run that fast but underestimating her had been something I promised to never do again.

I was now ahead of the Audi and with a decisive turn of the wheel I bounced unceremoniously back onto the same street. I could see it in my rear view mirror, Carter's face a mask of horror in the driver's seat. He was clutching uselessly at the wheel, unable to stop his ride of terror. We were coming up on an intersection; it was now or never.

I slowed the Ford, letting the Audi gain on me until we were side by side. Carter flashed a brief, agonised glance at me. Unable to register what was going on. Gently I edged my car over, nudging at the sleek, black flank of the other vehicle. Gradually I saw it respond, moving as I pushed further and further over. Then all of a sudden the dark, silent shadow of the Audi disappeared as it swerved violently away from me. I let out a low, rare curse as it readjusted its course and raced ahead.

My hands were bone white on the wheel as I assessed how to try again. Then my eyes were drawn to a lone figure stood on the very edge of the pavement, her chequered shirt blowing in the wind, her mobile clutched in her slim hand. The other pedestrians were pressed against the buildings, trying to stay away from the impending car chase, but Perry was out on a limb glaring intently at the approaching Audi, exposed.

I was so distracted by her vulnerable position that I had very little time to react to what happened next. The Audi veered into the path of traffic now starting to move on the opposite side of the street, released by the intersection lights. The Audi ploughed forward, the distance between us growing. The computer controlling the car directly in its path kicked in, doing its job superbly. It screeched to a halt sensing the danger, coming to an abrupt stop in the centre of the intersection. The other cars swerved to avoid it but the speeding Audi, free from the safety conscious parameters of a computer continued on resolutely.

An ice cold, plunging sensation filled my chest as I watched Perry, her posture fiercely determined on the edge of the pavement, right in the way of the now inevitable, unavoidable crash. I pressed my foot to the floor of the car, as far as I could without going through it and prayed it was fast enough. The Audi raced forward towards the now stationary car in the middle of the road, the driver sounding its horn desperately. Peregrine followed it with her eyes as I steered the Ford as close to the pavement as possible.

Her brown eyes flashed to me just as the two cars collided directly in front of her, in a cascade of sheered metal and splintered glass.


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

I slammed my foot on the brake, lodging the Ford between Peregrine and the mess of twisted metal and flying debris. I ducked as a piece of wreckage shattered my window, sending shards of glass tinkling into my lap. It was chaos; pedestrians were running in all directions screaming and crying, some were frantically calling the emergency services but I could already hear the distant fanfare of sirens advancing on us. Our time had run out, we had failed.

Leaning over I shoved open the passenger side door, Perry was still stood on the edge of the pavement, her face a frozen mask of horror and disbelief. She stepped back as the car door swung towards her, breaking her reverie.

"Get in the car." I growled at her threateningly. She blinked at me, moving as if in slow motion. "Now!" The sound of my voce filled with a barely contained rage finally snapped her out of her trance and she bundled herself in hastily, slamming the door behind her. I briefly scanned her, checking for signs of blood or trauma. She had a few superficial scratches on her face but it seemed my car had shielded her from the worst of the carnage like I had planned. At least something had gone right today, I thought sourly as I quickly shifted the Ford into drive and accelerated away from the scene of the crime.

"Carter?" Perry asked in a hoarse voice, her expression still dazed. I glared at her, unsure whether she had taken a knock to the head or if she really was that unobservant.

"I don't think there is much of him left to interrogate." I hissed the words at her through gritted teeth, and watched with cruel satisfaction as she shrank away from me. Her expression shifted from shell-shocked to sheepish, and for once she didn't fight back. I returned my attention to the road and weaved, at a slightly more sedate pace than before, between the evening traffic. I wanted to get as far away from the crash as possible before the authorities turned up and started poking around. I was certain there would be nothing linking us to the accident, the signal booster likely destroyed in the fatal collision. Still, I prided myself on never leaving any loose ends and now I had left the most dramatic loose end imaginable.

I manoeuvred the Ford nimbly through the traffic, fast enough to keep the sirens firmly in the distance but not enough to draw attention. Peregrine remained unusually quiet considering what had just happened, her eyes downcast, looking at her fingers clasped in her lap. I could feel my barely restrained anger at the situation bubbling under the surface, but my first priority was to find a safe place for us to regroup, then I would think about how to handle my partner.

We were now in the quieter suburbs of Chicago; tree lined avenues with well-kept houses hemmed us in on either side. The sounds of the busy city and aftermath of the crash had faded away to nearly nothing. Picking a particularly tranquil street, I pulled the car over and shut off the engine. The silence pressed in on us, the faraway rumble of the city punctuated by birdsong from the surrounding trees. I kept my hands on the steering wheel, needing something to hold onto to channel my worrying anger.

"I told you to stay in the room." I spoke in a low, level voice but the panicked, rage I had felt at seeing her stood so exposed like that on the street, was threatening to creep through. She didn't look at me; a quiver of uncertainty ran through me at her submissive state, this wasn't like her at all.

"I was trying to help." Her voice was small, but determined. At least not all the fight had gone from her.

"Well instead of helping you nearly got yourself killed along with our target. Then what would have happened to the job…to Seren?" I added the child as an afterthought, but Perry's head snapped up, her eyes flashing steel as they fixed on me.

"In case you forgot the only reason I agreed to become part of this circus again was for her." Her expression was pained, maybe she wasn't as unaffected by the child's absence as I had originally thought. "I was trying to get control again."

"Why did you lose control in the first place?" The accusation made her recoil as if I had hit her, even by my standards I could see I had been too harsh.

"It's been five years since I touched a computer and they've had five years to recruit more people." She was looking back down at her hands, her eyebrows pulled together in worry. "There are probably far better hackers than me now on their payroll."

"I doubt it." I murmured without thinking. Perry's eyes were wide as they looked back to me, then the fierce defiance I was used to returned as they narrowed at me.

"I honestly don't know why you and Diana put so much faith in me. I fucked up today and let Cicada blind side me, now our lead is dead." I stared out the windscreen at the sickeningly ordinary residential street. An old man exited one of the attractive town houses and placed a bin bag on the curb outside. He flashed a curious glance towards the black Ford but made no move to investigate further, there was no cause for concern in his peaceful world. These people's lives were so far removed from mine I might as well have been observing an alien civilisation.

"He knew something. Cicada wouldn't have panicked like that if he didn't." I spoke my thoughts out loud for the benefit of Perry. She shifted in her seat so she was looking forward as well.

"You want to try again?" Having to explain things was never something I had to burden myself with when it came to Peregrine. She had an uncanny way of reading me, predicting what I was going to do next. I had developed a similar relationship with Diana of course, our shared experience and longevity had guaranteed that. But with Perry it was different; we had no history, we had barely been operating together before she had disappeared, and yet there was a natural understanding and link between us. It was what kept drawing me back to her despite the perils.

"We still have a job to do." I answered simply. Failure was not a route I had travelled down frequently in my life, and I wasn't intending to traverse it now.

"Cicada are unlikely to leave a trail, not after last time." Her thinking was logical and sound, following the events of Satu Mare Cicada had tightened up on its members. Messages were destroyed after use, online activity had become heavily encrypted and those in public facing roles were even more discreet making them hard to keep a hold on. They had become smarter when dealing with us, keeping out of our crosshairs long enough to get their claws in. However, I was nothing if not meticulous when researching targets and I knew Carter well.

"True, they wouldn't. But a man like Carter would." I turned slowly to look at my partner. She was deep in thought, the fading sunlight hitting her eyes turning them to a fiery bronze.

"You want to break into his house?"

"No, his office." I knew men like Judge Carter; they liked to think they were clever. They thought keeping their business strictly away from their home life meant they could claim some kind of immunity if caught, it never panned out that way. Where they kept the evidence didn't matter to the ICA.

"Cicada will be all over that place by now. I don't think I'll be quite as useful considering the way they blocked me just now." She gave me a sideways glance, chagrin clear on her face.

"I have faith, like you said." Again the words slipped out before I could stop them. My voice had been gentle, trying to stoke that fire I was so used to behind her eyes. She looked momentarily shocked again, before she smiled wryly and let out a snort of laughter.

"You're mad." My mouth pulled up at the corners into a small smile, and I noticed her pupils dilating at the sight. Had they always done that?

"No one has ever accused me of being mad before." I was still smiling, and my mild teasing provoked a bloom of red to creep into her cheeks. She averted her eyes, choosing to look at the street again. I let my smile fall as a strangely charged atmosphere settled between us. Why did I suddenly have the urge to reach out and touch the place where her blood was pooling underneath her skin? It was completely illogical after our farce of a contract earlier and my resulting anger. In truth she scared me more than anyone else I had met, they way she could influence my mood without me even noticing. It was alarming.

She was oblivious to my internal battle as she continued our train of thought. "I didn't even see them coming and I have a feeling they'll be expecting you to try again. Maybe I should be the one to go-"

"No!" The blunt staccato of the word cut through the unwelcome pull towards her. I felt relief almost as soon as it disappeared, I was happier when I was in control of my own emotions. Still I couldn't ignore the tight knot of panic that had gripped me at the mere idea of her going into that building alone.

"What is your problem? You wanted me here, you shot your way through an army of militia to get to me, and now you want to confine me to a hotel room."

I took in a steadying breath. "You're my handler, not an agent." She let a groan of exasperation and rolled her eyes.

"I'm not an anything, remember? I quit, and I don't recall signing another contract." Peregrine had nearly recovered from her near-miss earlier, but I wasn't about to budge on this.

"For the duration of this mission you are acting as my handler. I will break into the office and look for intel. You will do what you can to aid me from a secure location."

"But-"

"A secure location Peregrine." I scolded her like a child; she glared back at me menacingly. "If we are going to do this, I need you to listen to me." I could see her thinking it through, trying to decide whether she could push me any further. After a brief stand off she gave a nonchalant shrug, a sour expression twisting her features as she turned away from me.

"I see. You only care about my safety because you need me." I resisted the temptation to snap back at her in response. What had I done to this girl to illicit this much doubt? Regardless of the reasons, I had won and she didn't look willing to fight me. I started the car again, scanning the street to make sure no one was intending to follow us.

I cast a quick sideways glance at her, she was still stubbornly keeping her face turned away from me, the orange sunset highlighting the gentle curve of her neck. The alarming pull to touch that curve, feel the silkiness of her skin, began to overwhelm me again and I quickly turned my attention back to the street. What was happening to me? Clearing my throat to dispel the wobble of unchecked emotions, I tried to speak in a business like tone.

"We'll infiltrate the office tonight." I shifted the Ford back into drive and pulled away from the curb. The strange pull tugged at my chest uncomfortably when she didn't respond, and I felt my defences weaken momentarily. "And for the record, that's not the only reason I care about your safety."

I felt the air move as her head jerked round to look at me, but I kept my gaze fixed on the road ahead as we moved out of the quiet line of houses and towards the city centre again. She didn't say anything but I felt the atmosphere warm slightly between us. Whatever was going on with me right now, I needed to get a handle on it. We had encountered a set back today and I predicted things were about to get a lot worse.

…

It had taken me an hour to reach Carter's office, and it had been a particularly tense hour even for me.

Peregrine had tried three times to get into the security system without tripping any alarms and had eventually managed to shut off the motion sensors, but the security cameras were still very much active. I had negotiated the seemingly quiet office corridors, avoiding the blinking red eyes of the cameras and the higher than normal security detail. Cicada hadn't taken long to summon in the troops, but there still wasn't the amount of men I had been expecting. I held my breath as one of the guards walked past me oblivious to my presence as I pressed myself into an alcove in the corridor. Waiting for him to retreat a safe distance I slipped silently out of my hiding place and made quick work of the lock on Judge Carter's office door.

The large room was still and dark, I felt myself relaxing slightly as I closed the door softly behind me. I wasn't sure what I was looking for, but I was certain I would know when I saw it. The imposing mahogany desk had pride of place in the centre of the room, it was surrounded by similarly expensive looking bookcases and display cabinets. Carter's furniture looked more in keeping with a period library than a modern office, old fashioned like its owner. It gave me hope that our mission wasn't a lost cause.

In contrast to the décor, the new computer stood out, its pristine monitor gleaming in the dim light coming from outside. I moved around the desk to face the setup and tentatively touched the sleek keyboard lying in front of it. The screen burst to life in a blast of blue light. I narrowed my eyes against the glare and felt an uneasy weight settle in my stomach.

"Looks like someone was here before us." I muttered to my constant, invisible partner.

"I'm afraid you're right there. Carter was a lot of things but an absent minded man he was not. He wouldn't have left it on." Perry's perception of people was almost as good as mine; I said almost because she still hadn't learnt to keep her distance from me. I directed the pointer towards Carter's files and methodically started searching through his computer.

"You seeing this?" I probed as I opened another empty file.

"Yeah, all wiped. Cicada did a good job." There was a bitter edge to her voice as I exhausted our options on the desktop. All data gone, not a shred of evidence or history was left on Carter's hard drive. I turned my attention away from the out of place machine, it was a talisman to a new age of technology floating amongst the relics of the past. Carter had liked antiques; his office was filled with them. Priceless artefacts from European castles, scrolls from a Nepalese monastery and a particularly rare Da Vinci was hanging on the wall behind his desk. This was not the room of a man who kept his life on a microchip.

Nothing else in the office seemed out of place, so whoever had come to wipe the files had not come to the same conclusion as me. Good, we might make something of this fiasco yet. I zeroed in on the Da Vinci, it was a sketch of the Virgin Mary. I had always kept a remnant of the faith I had adopted when living with Father Vittorio, despite the unholy path I had chosen to follow. Maybe some part of him still watched over me now, I wondered as I carefully moved the heavy canvas off the wall. My mouth twitched in triumph as the classic dial combination safe stared back at me.

"This guy watched way too many movies." I heard Perry scoff in my ear. She may mock, but it had been Carter's traditional belongings that had given me my lead in the first place. I made quick work of the safe, I had seen a lot of these before and without any electronic lock I didn't need Perry to help. There were stacks of money piled up on top of a large notepad. I slid the leather bound book out from under the money and placed it on the desk, flicking on the lamp so Peregrine could see too.

"You honestly think he wrote stuff down?" I flipped the heavy cover of the notepad over and began scanning the scrawling, black handwriting.

"He has an old dial lock safe hidden behind a painting. Chance is as good as any that there something in here." I heard her huff at my disdainful remark, I ignored her scepticism and continued to turn through the pages of the corrupt Judge's journal. There was evidence to convict the deceased Carter of hundreds of offences but there was nothing pointing toward Cicada.

"He isn't that stupid." Perry quipped at me, as the notepad refused to give us anything useful. I was about to slam it shut in defeated frustration when I came across a tear in the join of the book. The jagged line of paper made me pause, marking a point of interest like a beacon.

"He ripped it out? But if he was keeping it locked away why would he need to take the page?" Perry's question mirrored my curiosity. There were two options; either Carter was afraid someone would see what he had written even with all his securities, or he had wanted to take the information with him for some reason. Either way, I had a strong suspicion what he had written on that missing page was of great interest to us.

"Doesn't matter, if he had that page on him it's probably ash by now." I felt my brow crease at my partner's slow thought process. She still wasn't herself yet, the child still likely clouding her judgement. I ran a hand over the page left exposed by its sibling's absence; I felt a small swell of triumph as my fingertip rose and fell over an indentation on the blank page. The page with its secrets may be gone but it had certainly left an echo behind.

I grabbed a blank sheet of paper from another smaller notepad Carter had on his desk and placed it carefully over the page. Finding a particularly sharp pencil I held it slightly at an angle and gently swept the graphite back and forth across the paper. Slowly the shadow of Carter's handwriting began to emerge from the blank page like a magic trick.

"Genius." Perry breathed in my ear. I watched with narrowed eyes as I moved my hand further down the page, reading the ghost letters for anything important. There were calculations for funds received from questionable sources, names of well known politicians and incriminating evidence connected to them; the same as the other many pages in this book of sin. I could feel the triumph begin to dwindle as I reached the bottom of the page with still nothing to show for it. Then my hand froze as it finished uncovering yet another name attached to what looked like a phone number this time.

"Son of a bitch." Perry hissed just as I lifted my hand away to better see the six letters my gentle rubbing had unearthed. They stared up at me defiantly, almost mocking me. Birdie.

…

"What is that slimy bastard up to now?"

I stood still, staring out of the window as my partner buzzed angrily behind me. Trying to make sense of the sudden development was proving hard with an irate Peregrine in my vicinity. With any other person I would have told them to leave before forcibly removing them if they refused, but I knew better than to try those tactics with her. She was nothing if not belligerent, and an argument was not what I needed right now.

"We still can't be sure if it's anything to do with Cicada." She had finally come to a stop and was sitting on the edge of bed in our hotel room. I turned to regard her quizzically.

"What makes you say that?" She glanced up, a fiercely thoughtful expression on her face.

"There was nothing on that page linking him to them."

"Sound thinking, but you're forgetting the one major link to them we have."

"What?" A small furrow appeared between her eyebrows as she processed my comment.

"Carter. He was a Cicada member. And if I know Birdie, which unfortunately I do, his dealings with the Judge were probably anything but legal." Perry stared back down at the floor; I could almost hear the cogs turning in her head.

"Good point. It's as good a lead as any I suppose. Finding that worm isn't going to be easy though." My mouth twitched at the corner.

"I have faith." She looked up at me sharply, her eyes hard before she let out a humourless snort and reached for her laptop.

"So you keep saying. I'd better get on it then." She muttered as I turned back towards the window, satisfied she was efficiently tasked. The frenzied tapping of keys replaced her earlier ranting, and I was finally able to think through what had happened today clearly.

We had faced a major setback that much was certain, the sting of failure was still raw for me. However, our discovery in Carter's office had made up for some of the disappointment I had felt at our short-lived mission. Birdie was undoubtedly involved with Cicada, if anyone was cashing in on their meteoric rise to power it would be that bottom feeder. All we had to do was find him and make him spill their secrets. I had had enough dealings with the ex-agent to be confident I could do just that.

The distant sound of sirens drifted up from the city below and into our room. We hadn't talked about the incident anymore but I could tell Perry was still a little shaken from the event. Good, maybe a near death experience was what she needed to finally listen to me. Then again she had been brought to the edge of death before by a sniper bullet when she had decided to run off on her own and she still insisted on doing it. I let out a quiet sigh as my train of thought began to travel down this now familiar path. I would need to keep a close eye on my handler while we completed this task, not just for her safety but for my sanity as well it seemed.

I wasn't sure how much time passed as I stared sullenly out of the window but the abrupt halt in Perry's typing signalled she had found something. I glanced over my shoulder and watched her reading whatever it was she had discovered, her eyes flashing back and forth across the screen.

"I think I've got him." Her tone was tentative as she eventually looked up at me. "He's using an alias but the trial leads right to it."

I turned to face her again, an expectant look on my face. "Well?"

"He's booked on a flight to Mexico City tomorrow from O'Hare airport. It leaves around midday so we should be able to get the same flight." I nodded slowly, digesting what she had said. Mexico? Was he fleeing from someone? Maybe he had got wind of Carter's unfortunate fate and presumed he was next.

"Good. We'll catch the same plane and have a chat with him then." Peregrine tilted her head to one side, her action an unspoken question. "No where for him to run to on a plane." I answered her in a menacing tone. A wolfish grin spread across her face at my threat; it still bemused me how she reacted to me, when any normal person would have been alarmed. "Well done Peregrine. Get some sleep." She looked up at me in shocked confusion, and appeared to be about to say something before deciding against it.

Finally she broke my gaze and shut her laptop. "I guess we're going to Mexico then."


	19. Chapter 18

**A/N: Hope you all had a good Christmas and New Year, another year and we continue our story. Thank you all for your eternal patience with me, it means a lot. As always, read, review and enjoy! :)**

Chapter 18

I watched Peregrine as she weaved her way through the throng of people filling O'Hare's departures terminal. She was wearing a disgruntled expression as she neared me, giving a large man a hefty shove as he reversed into her. He turned to confront her only to think twice, clocking my warning look as she skidded to a stop in front of me.

"Two tickets." She announced, handing me the slips of paper before kneeling down to rummage around in her rucksack. The overweight man she had shoved stared curiously at us, the odd couple. I narrowed my eyes at him causing his to widen in alarm as he turned hurriedly away from us. "The plane wasn't that full, I didn't even have to persuade the airline assistant to get us on." I was only half listening to Perry as she searched for something in her bag, but her flippant remark caught my attention.

My expression obviously reflected my confusion at her comment as a smirk twisted her mouth as she straightened up again to look at me. "Everything ok?" She asked, her eyes twinkling mischievously. I switched my frown to her, my mouth stretching into an un-amused line. Reaching into my suit jacket pocket I produced two passports and handed one to her.

"Here, new passports." The smirk remained as she took the proffered item and flicked through it indifferently. Her face froze in surprised shock as she reached her details.

"Rieper?" Her brown eyes were wide and filled with uncertainty as she flicked her gaze back to me. I gave a nonchalant shrug in response, my demeanour cool despite the sudden flush of awkwardness that threatened to betray me. I had decided on us sharing a last name to lessen complications through customs, I had tried to reason with myself arguing we could be siblings, but in truth I had intended for us to be married when I had come up with the idea.

"Yes, is there a problem?" Perry's cheeks were turning rosy as she averted her gaze.

"No. No problem. You ready?" I could hear the flustered note in her voice as she busied herself with her bag, hoisting it onto her back and stuffing the passport into her jeans. I nodded and we walked across the busy terminal together; I remained slightly behind Perry, scanning the crowd for any hostile eyes. It only took twenty minutes for us to clear security, although one of the sweaty looking customs officials stared at me suspiciously before allowing me to pass him by.

Making it through the checkpoint in such a timely fashion meant we were unexpectedly early for the flight. A quick glance at my partner alerted me to her unsteady state. She hadn't been right since the events of yesterday, picking at the breakfast I had brought her this morning. She stood surveying the hectic departure lounge, swaying ever so slightly. I felt my face curl up into a grimace at the sight of herds of people shuffling from duty free shop to overpriced café. We were stood in front of a large area of seating which was packed with families and businessmen waiting for their flights. Usually I insisted on travelling business class so I didn't have to associate with the average cattle that inhabited this part of an airport. Unfortunately, as our unsavoury friend was flying economy, so were we.

"Over here." I prompted as I gently steered her over to a quieter section of seating off to one side of the melee in front of us. She offered no argument, letting me propel her past the screaming children and disgruntled parents trying to push sweets into them. There were two businessmen sat apart, their bags resting on the seats next to them. No doubt in an effort to deter anyone crowding them. They looked up from their phones as we approached, their expressions at first unwelcoming but quickly changing to wide-eyed nervousness as I glared icily back at them. One man grabbed his bag from the seat and shuffled up, leaving room for both Peregrine and I to sit. The other hastily snatched his bag up before theatrically looking at his watch and walking away.

I paid little heed to the inconsequential men as I turned my attention to my partner. She looked up at me gratefully as she settled in the relatively peaceful corner. "Food." I stated simply as I made to return to the fray we had just left behind.

"I'm fine, I'm not-"

"Food." I repeated, this time more forcefully and waited for Perry's mouth to snap shut again before departing. After a fraught encounter with a disinterested waitress and several other passengers getting well within my personal space I strode back to Perry, a brown paper bag clutched in one hand. Her eyes turned to two saucers as I gingerly placed the bag now dripping grease on my lap and reached inside. Perry took the burger wrapped in foil I held out to her with a small smirk.

"Thank you." She chuckled shyly as she began to uncurl the wrapping.

"Thought you'd appreciate that." I muttered as I extracted my own burger from the bag and stared at it disdainfully. Perry paused mid bite as she clocked my food choice.

"Really? Are sure you won't implode eating something like that?" I raised an eyebrow at her, her smirk stretching into a grin at my un-amused expression.

"If you can't beat them…" I offered as I nodded pointedly at her still untouched food. I needed her fit for the journey ahead and if that meant eating the same garbage she insisted so stubbornly in consuming herself, then so be it. I took a bite of the unappetising burger, my eyes fixed on Perry. Her grin faded, turning to disbelief as she watched me. On my second bite she finally turned to her own meal and began to devour it slowly. We ate in silence, I watched the fluctuating crowds come and go around us; Peregrine's attention remained on her food.

"You look uncomfortable." I hadn't realised she had finished her burger until she spoke. A warming sense of satisfaction spread through my chest at the sight of her empty hands, then I registered her comment.

"I am." I answered, glancing back at the swarm of people in the busy departure lounge.

"I thought you were designed to fit in anywhere."

"I am." The crowds had begun to merge together, forming one giant stupid organism that ebbed and flowed before me. I could feel Perry's eyes on me as she waited for me to elaborate. I turned away from the disturbing mass of creatures no different in my opinion to the sheep on her farm and faced my curious handler. "But what I am designed to do differs from how I feel in these circumstances." Peregrine's eyebrows rose slowly at my admission.

"And what is it that you feel?"

"Like I'm suffocating." Her brown eyes widened, and I felt myself weaken under her open, honest expression. "Where I was raised I was kept separate from other people as much as possible, to distance myself from any kind of compassion and improve my ability to kill. In truth, it achieved that but I find large groups of people to be unpredictable and disquieting. I much prefer to remain separate from it all until truly necessary." A wave of uneasiness swept through me at my sudden outburst. Perry sat still, searching me with those sharp, intelligent eyes of hers. For one horrifying moment I thought she was looking straight through me, into the very heart of me.

"You don't usually travel in cattle class then?" She said in a light tone. There was a forced note to it however, like something was lurking behind her words. I shook my head.

"No. I like to keep focused if I'm travelling to a contract." Her mouth twitched but didn't form into anything.

"Well, that's one way to explain your coldness I suppose." She broke her gaze with me, looking down at the crumpled ball of foil still resting in her lap. I wasn't sure why I had confided in her like that, I rarely spoke about my past, especially with her. She had always found a way to make me feel more than just a clone made for someone else's purpose; I didn't like reminding her of who I really was.

"Can I be honest with you 47?" She was still looking down at her hands, her long, nimble fingers that I was so used to seeing fluttering over a keyboard were toying with the ball of foil in her lap.

"Yes." I responded in a quiet voice.

She took in a deep breath, as if gathering herself to do something. "I'm scared." The wobble in her voice confirmed her statement, and I found myself even more out of my depth than I had been a moment earlier.

"Because of what happened yesterday?" I probed, aware of the businessman still sat a few feet away.

"Partly. I feel like I'm walking on a tightrope and at any minute someone is going to cut the wire." Her eyes flashed to me, a hint of panic glinting deep within them. "You're putting so much faith in me, the pair of you, what if I can't do this? What if I just make things worse, like I did before?" Her eyes began to shine with the promise of tears; the last thing I wanted was a scene in the crowded terminal. I leant closer to her, so our faces were only inches apart, and lowered my voice until I was certain our neighbour wouldn't hear.

"You tracked Carter and found Birdie. Where's your evidence that you can't do this?" I could feel her breath on my face, hitting it in quick staccato bursts as her fear started to get the better of her. Her heart was mimicking her breathing and I knew I had to get this emotional outburst under control.

"It's not just that 47, I've also…I've never….been this far away from her." Despite my efforts I felt my patience slip briefly, my brow furrowing in vexation.

"The girl is fine. Diana will keep her safe." I could hear the steel edge in my tone, but Perry appeared unaffected by my forceful reassurance.

"That's not the point, how can I explain this to you when you've just admitted you have no compassion." The tears were welling up now, threatening to spill over at the corners. I had hoped things would go back to the way they were once I had taken her away from that damp, isolated farm. I could see now things were far more twisted up and complicated than was convenient. Her breathing was becoming more erratic, and one lonely tear finally freed itself and ran down her flushed cheek.

Before I could register what I was doing my hand reached out and brushed the glistening teardrop away, grazing her soft skin with my thumb. An unexpected jolt of electricity leapt up my hand, Perry let out a shocked gasp as she pulled her face away from me. Evidently she had felt it too. Her mouth hung open in a silent 'o' as she stared at me, shocked out of her panic. Slowly I lowered my hand, unsure of what to do. I could still feel the echo of her skin on my thumb, the memory of that shock scrambling my usually pragmatic thoughts.

The air between us felt charged as if the moment of our touch had ignited something. I felt shaken inside, a quiver of fear like nothing I had felt before grew inside me. What was this? Why couldn't I make sense of it? Perry stared back at me, the same questions evident in her eyes.

The moment was broken as our flight was announced over the loud, abrasive speakers. I blinked, trying to clear my head as the atmosphere changed as quickly as it had appeared.

"We must go." I murmured, straightening up and looking down at the yet unfrozen Peregrine. I took a calculated step back, keeping my hands away from the woman in front of me. The cold, killer inside was gaining control once more, and I felt its icy grip tighten. The crowds no longer mattered, my past no longer mattered, she no longer mattered. All I could see now was my target and what I needed to do.

…

I had kept my distance since our strange encounter in the terminal, but the situation was less than ideal. We were seated next to each other, but I had positioned myself as far away from Perry as possible in these uncomfortable, cramped seats. I had already made a mental note to never travel economy again, the stench of people and their proximity was making me itch. Even with the plane only half full I still felt penned in, the disgust making it hard to keep still.

In this state my senses were on red alert. I was aware of every shift and muttered conversation from the other passengers. I could hear the metal of the plane creaking and contracting in the freezing air 30,000 feet up. But most of all I could feel the presence of Birdie, my target, ten rows ahead of us. I had watched as he had taken his seat, his dark eyes darting back and forth. He was scared, a man on the run. I was almost back to normal after my brief misdemeanour early, although I was still cautious about the woman next to me. She hadn't spoken at all since the events in the terminal.

The fasten seatbelts sign finally blinked off, and some of the few passengers started to mill about the plane. I had found it odd that the plane had been practically empty, mid week flights like these usually were packed to capacity. But after analysing each of the passengers as we boarded, it was hard to see anything suspicious. It was a typical mix of families and solo travellers, all ages, ethnicities and genders. I watched avidly as the two rows behind Birdie cleared, their occupants wandering down the plane to congregated by the toilets.

"Now." I shot briefly at Perry as I quickly freed myself and stood up, striding quietly down the centre aisle, my eyes trained on the back of Birdie's oblivious head. I could hear the hurried footsteps of my partner behind me as she shuffled between the narrow gap in the seats. Birdie's obnoxiously styled hair stuck up like a beacon as I neared his position, his head was bent forward slightly, staring at something in his lap. It didn't straighten as I slid in behind him, Perry taking the seat next to the aisle. She glanced at me, her cheeks flushed with adrenaline and I had a sudden flash of memory of touching that cheek, the crackle of electricity in my thumb threatening to distract me.

I inclined my head sharply, indicating for her to keep watch. Obediently for once, she leant away from me, looking up and down the aisle. Sliding my hand into my jacket pocket I retrieve the knife I had managed to smuggle through security. My sliverballer had been too conspicuous to bring on, so I would have to improvise. I ran my thumb over the smooth, red cover of the Swiss army knife and flipped the modest blade into position. Despite its harmless appearance I kept the edge sharp, tending to it as often as my gun.

Peregrine turned her face back to me, giving me the slightest nod. My senses were still jumping, I could hear her heart beating loudly against her ribcage. I wasn't used to having someone so close to me when I was working, although the only person I had ever had near me in such a situation was the woman sat near me now.

I tore my eyes away from her and focused on the man muttering into his lap in front of us. "Fucking nerds the lot of them. How dare they, threaten me will they? We'll see, we'll fucking see." My hand tightened on the knife and in one fluid moving I leant forward, wrapping an arm around the back of the chair and jabbing the point of the blade viciously into Birdie's side. He let out a strangled cry as I twisted the blade, applying just enough pressure to draw blood but not seriously injure.

"What the fuck?!" Birdie exclaimed in his rough, vulgar tone.

"If you want to keep your liver inside your body, I'd keep the noise down if I were you." I felt his body stiffen at the sound of my voice.

"Oh hey homes, fancy meeting you here." He ended the sentence on a high, keening yelp as I dug the knife in harder. Perry's attention was firmly on me now, I could feel her eyes boring into my face as my lip curled in disgust.

"Birdie, I'd hoped to never see your worthless face again, but I find our paths have unfortunately crossed once more."

"Ow, ow, steady on their old friend. What can I do you for?"

"You can start by telling me where it is your going." Birdie shifted, trying to distance himself from my blade, but I blocked his escape with my other hand wrapped around his chair.

"What do you mean? I'm going to Mexico City obviously." He made an odd gasping sound as I gripped his shoulder with my free hand. "Argh, shit man. Okay, I'm meeting a guy there. I have business I need to discuss." I loosened my hold on him and he theatrically began rolling his shoulders. "Jessssus. Go easy ok. I'm not going to stiff you."

"Why is it that I don't trust you when you say that?" I hissed, giving him a another jab with the knife to remind him of its presence.

"It's true, it's true. He's a big mob boss, summoned me personally. We got business."

"Does this business have anything to do with a Judge Carter?" I flashed a warning glance at Perry as she interjected. Birdie stilled, my handler's voice obviously taking him by surprise. He let out a nasty chuckle that made my skin crawl.

"Didn't know you'd brought your missus along. You two back together again? I must say I was getting a little concerned for you, what with all the drinking-Ow!" This time I felt the knife puncture his flesh. I quickly drew back, my knuckles white, stark against the blood red handle. _Get a grip,_ I reprimanded as I saw Perry's confused, quizzical face staring up at me.

"Have you been spying on me Birdie?" I growled menacingly. He chuckled humourlessly, and tried again to look at me. My other hand held him in place but one dark eye peered out at me from between the seats.

"No need to spy homes. The rumours were hard to ignore, the agency's number one asset going off the rails because of some chick." I ground my teeth together at his jibe.

"Careful, you should know better than to goad a man holding a knife to you. Then again, maybe you don't." I inched the pressure back up on his side, make him twist away from me in pain.

"Alright I'm sorry ok. Why do you want to know about Carter anyway?"

"I want to know why a high ranking Chicago Judge would have anything to do with a low life like you?"

"Well me and the old man had an arrangement, that was until he got himself turned into strawberry jam, now I've got to go and clean up the mess he left behind." We were only an hour into our journey but I wanted to be done with this conversation. Talking to Birdie was like conversing with a particularly nasty cornered animal; you were sure you had the advantage but at any minute he could turn and bite your hand off.

"This mess wouldn't have anything to do with Cicada Co, now would it?" I kept my voice light but with just the slightest edge of steel, so as to remind the animal who exactly had him cornered. I felt him shiver at the sound, then pause. I glanced at Perry who was leaning in next to me, her face was still a mask of confusion as she returned my glance. I feared Birdie had said too much as usual, I would pay for that later.

"No…no. I can't say it does." The lie was obvious and so angered me even more.

"Be smart about this Birdie, we're an awfully long way up to start testing my patience." The lightness was gone from my voice now, if his lie hadn't alerted me to his knowledge of Cicada, then his pause when I had mentioned them certainly had.

"I am being smart homes. You of all people should know what they're capable of." He squeaked in a very unmanly way as I twisted the blade into his side, letting out an exasperated sigh as I did. Just as I was about to insist he rethink his plan Peregrine suddenly sat bolt upright, staring down the central aisle, her eyes wide with surprise. My focus instantly shifted, and I peered over the back of Birdie's seat expecting to see the previous occupants of the seats we in returning. Instead, it took me a beat longer than usual to assess the situation I found walking briskly towards us.

A line of approximately five men were advancing on our position, they were dressed in unassuming plain clothes but all of them carrying pistols, raised to eye level, pointed directly at us.

"What do we do?" I heard Perry's whispered question as if from a great distance. My instincts were already kicking in; I swept the tiny cramped space for our options, there weren't many. A cold sense of foreboding swept through me as I noticed the few passengers that were seated around us were all apparently asleep. The ones that weren't were currently holding guns and zeroing in on the three of us. This was a planned ambush, whether it had been intended for all of us or just Birdie, it didn't matter now. Cicada had turned all of us into cornered animals and I wasn't about to go down without biting someone's hand off.

"Looks like the tables are turning on you homes." Birdie's quip was half-hearted as I heard the same realisation in his voice, he was excepting of what was about to happen. Luckily Cicada had never really seen me in a desperate situation, that was about to change.

"Move." I shot at my partner, my eyes remaining fixed on the armed procession that was nearly on top of us. Without a word she scooted out of the seat giving me room to get up. I straightened up and used the arm that had been pinning Birdie to his chair to slam him cleanly into the hard back of the seat in front of him. There was a satisfying thunk as his skull connected with it, knocking him out cold. Then in one fluid movement I stepped out into the aisle and faced the oncoming wave of attackers.

"Stay out of the way and stay hidden if you can. I'll deal with this." I didn't turn to see if Perry had got my instructions, I felt her disappear into one of the empty rows of seats behind me. I shifted the small knife in my hand, pointing the blade away from me, ready to go on the offensive. It was a less than ideal weapon in hand-to-hand combat, but I had little choice considering the environment and the now rapidly approaching men.

"You there, get on the floor. There's no where to go." The leader had slowed down at the sight of me preparing for battle, I admired his brave attempt to diffuse the situation but his gun was all but useless in these surroundings. Only an idiot would fire a gun on a plane.

Now that I was stood up I could see there were more men behind the ones in front of me. The only saving grace of this cramped, limiting space was that they couldn't all rush me at once. The leader was speaking to me again, his mouth moving animatedly as if shouting but I couldn't hear him anymore. My adrenaline was up and my body was preparing to fight. He waited for me to respond to whatever command he had given and when I didn't he continued forward, a purposeful look on his face.

I stayed still, anticipating the right moment as he raised his gun to strike at me. Once he was a few feet from me and his arms extended to almost directly above his head I lunged, thrusting my hand with the knife forward in a quick strike. It hit its mark, the blade sinking into the soft flesh under my attackers arm. His eyes widened momentarily before I used my other hand to slam his head into the overhead locker. He fell in a crumpled heap in the seats to one side, the next man already stepping into his place to face me.

There was beat of silence, the calm before storm as he glanced at his unconscious, bleeding comrade then his eyes flashed back to me and the spell was broken. I dodged as he rushed at me, his momentum sent him flying past me, sprawling in the aisle. Before I could deal with him though the next in line was already on me. The butt of his gun smashed unceremoniously into the side of my head, causing bright stars to burst in my vision. I let out a low growl as I regained my composure and slashed at his thigh with my knife. He howled in pain, grabbing at the seats either side to try and stay upright.

Seeing my chance I placed both my hands on his chest and shoved him heavily. The man scrabbled to keep purchase on the seats but his injured thigh gave way under the strain and he flew backwards into the men waiting behind him. Three of them fell with their comrade, clearing the way for me to leap nimbly over them.

I spared Perry and the unconscious Birdie a brief backward glance as I advanced down the aisle, hoping to draw the attackers away from their position. Now I was past the first wave I could see the entire plane was either unconscious in their seats or attempting to subdue us. I ground my teeth together in frustration, we had walked right into Cicada's trap like a couple of novices. The men I had knocked over were already righting themselves behind me, I strode down the aisle towards the gathering men further down. A sea of shocked faces greeted me, evidently these Cicada heavies hadn't been expecting me to evade their friends with quite so much ease.

The next man ran at me as I prepared to deal with them as quickly as possible. I ducked his wildly swinging fist as he attempted to hit me and lodged my knife into his bicep. He yowled and swiftly I snapped his arm for good measure before punching him full in the face. As his body slid down into the aisle I retrieved my knife and moved on to the next man in line. Suddenly my progress was halted as a strong arm wrapped around my throat in an all too familiar move, usually I was on the other end of it. The group I had flattened earlier had caught up to me, I felt a swell of relief knowing they were focusing on me not the vulnerable Peregrine.

I jerked my head back sharply, connecting with my assailants nose. There was a sickening crunch as he groaned and the arm holding me loosened. I extracted myself from his grasp and finished the job by knocking him out. I fought on, taking the attacking men out one by one. Their desperation growing as more of them fell before me. I appeared invincible but I could feel the strain of the fight taking its toll on me. They got a few good hits in, winding me slightly and my hits were loosing some of their power. Still I could see the end and I fully intended to get us out of this with our target alive this time.

There were only five men left out of fifteen now and we had fought our way to the far end of the plane. I was just dispatching another man when I heard a gut wrenching sound. The sharp retort of the gun was unmistakable and came from the opposite end of the plane. My first thought was of Perry then I heard her high pitched cry ring out and my mind quickly shifted to the loud rushing sound filling the back end of the plane. Someone had fired their weapon and pierced the pressurised cabin on the aircraft.

A brief feeling of panic gripped my stomach and I remained frozen, unsure what to do. If whoever had fired at Perry tried to do so again we were going down for sure. With lightening quick speed I set about incapacitating the remaining men around me, my barely contained panic evident in my hurried blows I let fly on them. Once I had dealt with them I turned my attention to the direction in which I had come, hoping I was in time to stop the disaster I could sense on the horizon.

I could see the man struggling with someone in one of the seats, his gun held in one hand. I lengthened my stride and fixed the man with a hard, narrowed eyed stare as he leant towards Perry. I was halfway to them when a pair of legs appeared kicking him violently back against the seats opposite. With a growl of fury I saw him level his gun in slow motion, my heart picking up a gear as his finger moved to squeeze the trigger. I waited for the bang of the gun, but no sound came this time. I thought maybe he had decided against the foolhardy option but then the confused expression that clouded his features told me a different story and I felt my stomach leap into my throat as the plane began to nosedive.

Perry's legs appeared once more, launching a vicious kick at his head. She sent the last of Cicada's men flying backwards, but by then it was too late. "Peregrine?" I had to raise my voice over the sound of rushing air as the plane began to gain speed, the pressure escaping through the hole in the fuselage. There was no response to begin with then her head bobbed up above the seat she had been hiding in.

"Are you hurt?" She shook her head then hoisted herself up, shuffling cautiously into the aisle.

"I think I fucked up." She finally said. We both staggered, clutching at the seats either side as the turbulence increased. Sure she was fine I turned and sprinted down the plane to the cockpit. I heard her hurried footsteps behind me, leaping periodically to avoid the unconscious bodies strewn in the aisle. I burst through the door to the central controls of the plane and sighed in weary exasperation at the sight of the emergency co-pilot out cold in his chair.

"Idiots." I muttered as I moved further into the small room filled with angrily flashing lights. The altimeter was spinning wildly in its glass case as the plane continued its downward trajectory.

"Holy shit. I really did fuck up. I'm sorry." Perry's small voice drifted over my shoulder as I scanned the complicated looking controls. I had known what she had done the moment that gun hadn't fired. In her panic to defend herself she had activated the code on her phone, which disabled any Cicada microchips in its vicinity. Unfortunately the phone didn't discriminate between a chip controlling a gun pointed at its owner's face and a chip controlling a 747 Boeing aircraft cruising at 30,000 feet. Her logical act of self perseveration had disabled the chip controlling the plane and with the co-pilot helpfully incapacitated by Cicada's men along with the other passengers it left us with a less than ideal situation.

"We'll start pointing fingers when we've got out of this okay." I shot at her as I unceremoniously dumped the co-pilot on the floor and took his seat at the controls. Much like the cars below the plane had an emergency manual mode that could be activated when the chip could no longer do its job. I located the small switch and with a deep breath flicked it up. The planes control stick immediately jumped towards me and I took it tentatively.

"Can you fly this thing?" Perry was leaning over me, her head level with mine. I tried not to let her obvious terror distract me, it had been a long time since I had done this and never with such a big aircraft.

"In a manner of speaking yes. Although my qualifications don't really matter right now, our options are fairly limited as you can see." I gestured vaguely towards the still unconscious man on the floor. Whatever Cicada had used to knock out the people on this plane it was powerful stuff. At least they would be blissfully unaware if I couldn't pull this off.

"Reassuring as always." She muttered bitterly as she slid into the seat behind me. I turned my attention back to the bank of dials and buttons as she strapped herself in. I didn't bother with mine; a harness wasn't going to do anything if we crashed into the ground at 200 miles per hour. However I felt that information was best kept to myself, as it would likely cause unnecessary stress to my partner.

"The chip should kick back in about fifteen minutes." She offered hopefully, desperately trying to make amends for her part in this fiasco.

"In roughly ten that isn't going to help us." A heavy silence fell between us as she digested what I had just said. A small twinge of guilt shot through me at my harsh response but I really needed her to stay quiet right now, flying a large passenger plane wasn't something I knew how to do easily.

I glanced at my altimeter; we were now at 20,000 feet. It was less than before, but still enough to gain sufficient airspeed to lift us out of this death dive. I manoeuvred the control stick forward pushing our nose down at a greater angle. The stick shock violently in my hand as the plane increased its speed, hurtling towards the earth faster than before. I felt Perry grip the back of my chair in panic as the whole plane began to shake around us, mimicking the stick in my hands.

"Ummmm, we appear to be falling faster now 47." I ignored her wavering voice as I held the plane at a steady angle. We needed to gain speed to increase our chances of lift, without the engines this was the only way to maintain enough power to stay in the air.

The windscreen was a complete white out as we plummeted through the thick clouds, water droplets condensed on the glass outside and slid up the pane, the only real visual sign that we were moving at all. The altimeter was still spinning round like a possessed clock, 15,000 feet, 10,000 feet. Suddenly the white wash in front of us disappeared and I heard Perry suck in an alarmed breath of air. In its place was a patchwork of yellow and browns as the landmass of mid America rushed forward to meet us.

I was struggling to keep a hold on the stick in my hands now as I felt our velocity increase even further. The whole cabin was alive with a horrendous roaring sound as it attempted to shake itself apart around us.

"47?" Perry's voice was now a childlike whimper, it was the voice of someone watching their death rushing towards them and for a brief, worrying moment I wanted to let go of the plummeting plane and hold her firmly in my arms. Instead I gritted my teeth and let the cool, detached feeling of one removed from death wash over me. I slowly began to fight against the plane as I pulled the stick towards me, dragging its nose up inch by inch. It fought against me, whipping back and forth in my grasp like an angry beast trying to throw me from its back. I tightened my grip, my knuckles turning white from the strain. A strange thought occurred to me as I fought with the behemoth of aluminium trying desperately to return to earth; it was a rare thing to be in charge of saving so many lives instead of ending them. There had to be at least a hundred innocents on this plane even with it only half full, a hundred people relying on me to continue living. My stomach twisted in an uncomfortable way at the thought and I quickly dispelled it as I yanked harder on the control stick.

The plane was levelling out slowly, but too slowly. At this rate we would crash into the Texas farmland before I could regain control. I leant back, using all my bodyweight to pull the plane level. Perry had fallen silent now, her presence hovering behind me, I could almost see her eyes wide and horrified boring into my head. Trusting me to save her. With a loud growl I jerked the stick towards me with all my strength, it snapped forward as if all the force resisting me a moment before had suddenly given up and with a lurching sensation the plane's nose shot up pointing at the horizon instead of straight down.

The altimeter slowed in its crazy death spin, but it was still falling only at a much more controlled rate. The deafening cacophony of the walls shaking apart died down, and an eerie silence fell over the aircraft. I felt the muscles in my jaw relax slightly as I scanned the instruments in the cockpit; it had worked, we were now gliding at a steady rate towards the earth. Now I needed to find somewhere to land.

"Is that phone of yours still working?" My voice didn't portray how close we had come to death, and how much we still weren't out of the woods.

"Yeah it is." Peregrine croaked at me, her current emotions were a lot more evident than mine.

"Where are we?" I heard her fumbling with the device, then there was a pause.

"Can I use the internet?" I shot her a disbelieving look over my shoulder, my eyebrow raised. "Oh, ok. Stupid question right?" I turned back to the view outside in answer; the land was now a reassuring line cutting through the deceptively calm, azure blue sky. "We appear to be between San Antonio and the Mexican border currently."

"Good." I responded. There was plenty of flat, dessert land in Mexico suitable for landing a plane. We drifted on, the ground getting closer and closer but no longer a threatening mass below us. I could feel Perry watching in awe as I steered us through the air, scanning the earth for a clear space to bring us home.

Eventually I saw the border pass beneath us and noted a smattering of houses as we glided overhead. Hopefully some of their residents would have looked up in alarm at the silent plane ghosting past them and would have alerted the authorities. The Mexican dessert stretched out before us and I shifted slightly in my seat as the next part of our ordeal loomed. Praying there was enough back up power in the hydraulics I pressed the button to engage the landing gear. There was a brief pause where nothing happened and I envisaged landing the plane in a gut-wrenching slide along the dessert then the musical sound of a hatch opening below us reached me. Keeping the control stick as steady as I could I inched the plane closer to the ground, bracing for the inevitable bumpy impact as it re-joined the earth. I was only a little ashamed to find I was holding my breath as we bounced abruptly along the rocky ground. I quickly deployed the wind flaps and felt myself pulled forward by the force of the plane coming to a stop.

I stayed still, holding onto the control stick that had saved our lives for a beat longer than necessary. Then I heard Perry let out a strange, deflating noise as if all the air had left her body.

"Jeeeeesus Christ. Can we never do that again please?" She staggered to her feet and I listened as she stumbled her way down the plane. After a moment of staring at the now stationary horizon, I rubbed a weary hand over my face and let the adrenaline leak away from me. After five years I really had forgotten how much excitement that woman brought to my life, and I wasn't sure I enjoyed it.


	20. Chapter 19

**A/N: Hello all, so this is a bit more of an emotional chapter. I hope you enjoy where I am taking this character, I know not everyone likes these kind of stories but if you could hear me out it would be great. Anyway, as always read, review and enjoy! :)**

Chapter 19

"You're one crazy motherfucker homes."

I stared coolly at Birdie as he shook his head, smiling ruefully at me. He had only been conscious for half an hour but I was already wishing he wasn't. Dragging his limp body from the plane now parked somewhere in dessert to the city of Delicias hadn't been my first idea of a good time, but at least he had been decidedly quiet. Now he was back to his normal annoying self, even more buoyed by the news that he had evaded Cicada's wrath due to our well-timed interception.

"You can call me what you like, but I feel I'm owed a bit of information after landing a plane for you." His dark eyes narrowed as he stared up at me from the chair he was sat in. We were currently holed up in a rundown apartment building that was closed for renovation. Our surprise encounter with Cicada had made me eager to avoid public places, so a hotel was out of the question. "Are you sure you want to get mixed up in El Chupacabra's business?"

"What a charming name. I can hardly wait to meet him." Peregrine didn't look up from her laptop when she spoke, continuing to type away. She was perched on a table, as that and the chair Birdie was sat on were the only pieces of furniture in the room. He shot a sideways glance at my handler, I really didn't like they way he looked at her, like a hungry coyote eyeing up its prey. I moved forward in two quick strides and grabbed his chin, roughly yanking it back to face me.

"Who is this El Chupacabra, and what is his connection with Cicada?" Birdie's eyes flashed like cold flint, his mouth and cheeks twisted into a comical expression by my grip.

"Straight to the point as always." He hissed in a snide tone. I released him but kept my close proximity, staring down at him menacingly. He glared back at me for a moment, then shot a disbelieving look at Perry. "If he's always this charming how did he get you?" She looked up at him, her mouth pressed together in a firm line before returning to her work. I noticed her cheeks beginning to colour however as she hid behind her laptop screen again.

"Okay, alright, I'll spill. But I'm not sure you're going to like it."

"I don't have to like it, I just need to know who is next on the list." Birdie blanched at my comment, a flicker of fear igniting behind his eyes.

"He's not a member…of Cicada. Elpidio Estrada is the most dangerous, influential cartel boss in Mexico City. He deals in Cicada's assets on the black market, that's where I came in. I was a middleman between him and Carter." Peregrine looked up from her laptop again, her face stern as she stared at me.

"Only Carter?" I shot at our less than trust worthy informant. He frowned before shrugging in a non-committal way.

"As far as I'm concerned homes yes. I don't know if he was talking to any other members." Perry tilted her head to one side, the gears in her brain clearly turning as she regarded Birdie.

"What did he deal in?" She finally asked. Birdie's expression darkened, and I was alarmed to see a look of genuine disgust come over him.

"Kids. Them child killers Cicada has used to put you lot out of business. He was paying Carter to siphon off the discarded ones, the ones that didn't quite come out right I guess." Perry and I shared a glance; two small lines appeared between her eyebrows as she digested Birdie's words.

"I suppose having a genetically engineered assassin would be useful." Her voice was distant, as if she was talking to herself more than the room. Birdie drew our attention back to him as he shook his head, a humourless smile twisting his mouth.

"Believe me, I wish that was the reason he was nabbing them. I've seen a lot of fucked up shit in my time, but this…well, let's just say if it weren't for the money I would have taken this guy out myself."

"It would have to be bad for you to want to get your hands dirty." I sneered at the man opposite me. Birdie's expression remained fixed in its state of disgust as he snapped back.

"This guy is a sick fuck, but he's no where near as sick as the bastards he sells these kids to." Perry's face had turned an interesting shade of grey, and I watched with curiosity as a deadly glint entered her eyes. "If he knows anyone else in Cicada he'll be trading still, in the usual places."

I clenched my fists as Birdie's information finally sank in. This gangster was selling the changelings he stole from Cicada to the worst of society, people who wanted to stay in the shadows as their deeds were too evil even for the criminals they dealt with. We really were reaching the bottom of the barrel with this mission. "Where can we find him?" I asked in a dark voice. Birdie flinched at the sound, but it was Perry who answered in an equally menacing tone.

"Where you find all the sleazy oxygen wasters looking to deal with the filth of humanity…the deep web." Something had come over Peregrine, her eyes were locked onto Birdie and her expression was so fearsome that Birdie was leaning away from her in his seat.

"His gang is called Los Mensajeros if that helps?" His voice wobbled slightly as Perry switched her glare to her laptop, he glanced at me his eyes wide with fear. "I want to help." For the first time his voice was sincere as he looked up at me. I paused for a moment, letting a cool silence stretch between us. Finally I shook my head infinitesimally.

"Come on man, I only betrayed you that one time. Besides you're going to need me to get to him. The guy won't let anyone he doesn't know get within five miles of him, especially someone like you. You saved my ass back there, least I can do is return the favour." I slowly folded my arms and regarded the man in front of me. As much as I didn't want to admit it he made a good point. This gangster knew him, had connections through him, if Birdie could lure him out into the open it would make my job ten times easier.

"I've found him." Perry's triumphant cry cut through my thoughts. Birdie started, giving the woman sat near him a stunned look.

"Holy shit, that was fast." I felt my mouth turn up at the corner at his remark. It was always amusing to me when people underestimated my partner, it was one of the main reason she was always so successful. No one ever expected anything of her.

"Oh my God, this man is a monster." Perry's face morphed into one of utter revulsion as her eyes snapped up to me. "Honestly, even if he's a dead end I think we should do the world a favour here." I raised my eyebrows at her.

"If he doesn't know anything new then he can't be considered a target." Birdie let out a loud snort at my pragmatic comment.

"Spoken like a true ICA bitch." I felt my muscles tense at the insult, but I didn't move, choosing instead to fix Birdie with an icy stare that made him flinch yet again. He quickly looked away from me and focused his attention on Peregrine instead. "So is there anything on there or what?" She responded by turning her laptop round so we could see the screen.

A black background with minimal white text greeted us, the information presented was sparse and vague but what else could be expected from an illegal website run by a cartel for the purpose of trafficking people. There was enough though for me to pick out the key points:

 _Male_

 _7_

 _Healthy, docile, obedient._

 _No attachments, clean of police surveillance._

 _Price on request_

I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. A cold, sharp anger began to sweep through me and as I met Perry's steady gaze I knew she was experiencing the same emotions as me. Her face was set in a hard mask of rage, her eyes the only thing even remotely warm and they burned with a hatred I had rarely seen in anyone.

A flicker of doubt ignited amongst the bone chilling disgust I felt towards our next potential target, as much as I was repulsed by what was being shown to me I couldn't afford to get emotionally invested in this mission. All my training and my very recent past experiences had proven that to be fatal. Taking a moment to gain control of myself I turned a neutral, flat-eyed stare towards Birdie.

"Is there a chance then that this Estrada has the intel we need?" Birdie dragged his attention away from the laptop screen and reluctantly looked at me. The shaken expression I saw on his face made me even more uneasy about what we getting into, but I kept my true feelings expertly hidden. Waiting impassively for Birdie to answer.

"Chances are high." There was no sarcasm in his voice at all; my hands off approach to this interrogation seemed to be yielding results. I nodded once solemnly; I had dealt with numerous unsavoury characters in my career but none had put me at such ill ease as this one. Regardless, Birdie's testimony was enough to mark him as the next person of interest on our seemingly unending list.

"Where can we find him?" I continued in the same bland monotone as before. I saw Peregrine frowning at me from my peripheral vision, obviously perplexed by my sudden distance from the situation. Truth was, if I let myself give in to my gut reaction to this gangster's actions I was pretty sure I wouldn't have the control to get any intel out of him at all.

"He hangs out in a number of places. If you want I can arrange to meet him at one and get the dirt you need." Despite the iron grip I had on my internal feelings, I couldn't help the trace of surprise enter my expression. Birdie had gone from his usual snarky, vile self to a submissive, co-operative participant. There was still an underlying suspicious I couldn't shake, this man had double-crossed me far too many times for me to take his help at face value.

"Fine, give us a way in, but you're not going alone." He sighed, looking me up and down.

"No offence homes, but I think they're going to take issue to a six foot whatever bald guy turning up with me." His jibes were half-hearted but well grounded.

"I don't need to use the front door." I shot back darkly. Birdie shook his head almost apologetically at me.

"I'd really rather you didn't, if these guys get a whiff of something suspicious they'll kill me outright and go underground where even your pretty computer whizz won't find them." He glanced sideways at Perry who was now glaring balefully at him. "Sorry sweetheart but Estrada has a team of nerds that would put Stephen Hawking to shame and there's only one of you."

"We can manage without him. I managed to find his website, I can find him too." There was an edge of defiance in Perry's voice, even though she would never admit it that last quip from Birdie had hurt her. I let out a long, exasperated sigh and shook my head again.

"No, he has a point. Using a known contact to draw Estrada out is smart, it'll also save us a lot of time if we have someone who knows this guy." I could feel Perry bristling next to me, but I kept my gaze firmly locked on the man in front of me. He swallowed as I stared him down, thinking through our options. "I can't trust you alone and you say the risk of having me with you is too high." Birdie nodded slowly at my recap.

"Yeah, go on homes." He prompted as the nausea at what I was about to suggest gripped my stomach.

"Would they notice her?" I gestured towards my partner with my head, and could almost instantly feel the combination of shock and outrage emanating off of her. Birdie looked taken aback for a moment before a wolfish smile stretched slowly across his face.

"You surprise me man, I thought you liked to wrap her up in cotton wool." The feeling of nausea intensified as he turned that sick smile on her. "Yeah, I think that could work. I could arrange to meet at one of his brothels and pass her off as a gift, you know, to take the edge of losing Carter." My fists clenched as I fought the urge to break Birdie's jaw and retract what I had just suggested. However, I knew our options were limited, as they always were at the moment, and this was an ideal way to keep tabs on Birdie and get what we needed.

Sending Peregrine into the lair of this malicious gangster was not my favourite plan, but she was a lot more perceptive now and had proven she knew how to survive. Just as I resigned myself to what we were about to do, Perry's indignant tone brought me back to the present.

"A prostitute? Are you fucking kidding me? You want me to do this 47?" I turned to face my now enraged handler, her cheeks were flushed an angry red, her hands gripping her laptop so hard I thought it would snap in two.

"If there was another option that got us the results we need faster I would take it." Her mouth flapped open and closed so she resembled an outraged fish for a second, before she slammed the laptop unceremoniously down beside her, and pressed her lips together in a thin line.

"I see." She hissed through her tensed jaw. "So I'm to stay out of the field until it suits you. Honestly I can't keep up with you." She jumped up abruptly and with one last searing look in my direction she stormed out of the grotty apartment, grabbing her laptop as she went and closing the door behind her with a deafening bang.

Bits of rotten plaster floated down from the ceiling and I let my gaze linger on the closed door for a moment. "Fucking hell. She has quite a temper on her homes. You sure sending her in on her own is a good idea?" I kept my head turned away from Birdie, sure if I looked at him after all that I would set about taking my anger out on him.

"It's the best one I have right now. And she won't be alone, I'll be watching."

…

I walked silently along the musty corridor of the apartment building, letting my eyes adjust to the gloom. The electrics had long been disabled so we had resorted to two battery-powered torches, one was with Birdie and Perry had taken the other one wherever she had disappeared to. I was fine without one, my eyes able to see fairly comfortably in the dark. I had been looking for my handler for the last twenty minutes and was struggle to locate her.

I had left her to get her emotions in check after her outburst earlier. Her annoyance was valid but even she must see the logic of sending her into the field with Birdie. It went against everything I had endeavoured to do before, but after talking through the details with my new unlikely partner I was confident we had assembled an elegant, largely risk free plan. Still, nothing was set in stone when it came to Peregrine.

I let out a low sigh of frustration as I reached another dead end with no sign of Perry. For a brief moment I wondered if she might have left the building all together, racing away from this situation I had dragged her into and choosing to go into hiding again with that child of hers. I quickened my pace as I turned on my heel and headed back the way I had come. I had started on the forth floor where we had made our base and was slowly working my way down, scanning the rooms for life.

As I made my way down to the last floor I could feel the irritation at Peregrine's behaviour begin to boil over. It was getting beyond ridiculous how much I was letting this emotionally volatile girl affect me, however every time my logical, trained mind insisted I walk away and forget her, a deeper, unknown part of my psyche pulled me back to her side. It was like she possessed some hold over me I still couldn't explain.

I forgot about stealth as the irritation flared at my continuing duality, the battle that seemed to be constantly waging in my head. Striding along the lower floor I passed the silent, abandoned doors of several apartments. Nothing, where was she? The corridor ended and widened onto a large entrance hall. I stopped, straining my hearing for the familiar sound of her typing. The silence pressed in on me, suffocating me more than the damp smell of the place. Reluctantly I stared at the doorway; if she had left the building where would she go?

I took a tentative step towards the outside then stopped as I noticed a small passageway I hadn't searched yet to one side of me. It didn't look like the other corridors I had walked down, it was narrower and there was only one door located at the end. I assumed it used to be the caretaker's office as there were an assortment of brooms and other cleaning equipment piled haphazardly on the floor. I focused in on the door and the small sliver of orange light leaking from the bottom that had grabbed my attention.

Treading quietly I advanced on the closed door, stepping lightly over the debris in my way. I paused for a moment outside, the faint sound of fingers tapping keys reached me. The rhythm and the speed were as recognisable to me as her lilting Welsh voice in my ear. Opening the door soundlessly I saw her sat with her back to me at a desk that had been crammed into the small office. The torch she had taken was placed on its end, the light pointed at the ceiling. It bathed the dank, crowded room in a soft orange glow. Perry's ponytail bobbed in time as she continued to type away furiously. She was always doing something on that computer.

"Have you come to give me my marching orders?" My eyes widened at her sour tone. I was certain I had been silent as I entered; she was definitely more perceptive.

"You've been gone a long time." The clipped sound of her typing stopped abruptly. Her shoulders rose and fell as she took in a deep breath, but she didn't turn to face me. I kept my distance, choosing to give her space as I assessed her mood.

"I needed some time to get my head straight. Your sudden change of heart kind of threw me." Her voice still held the threat of anger as she spoke. I wondered idly why she was refusing to look at me, usually I could never get away from her deadly stare when she was upset by something I had done. Which seemed to be a lot.

"It wasn't my first choice, but given the evidence it seems like the optimum plan of action." The minute movement of Perry's shoulders tensing caught my attention.

"Optimum? You know as well as I do that you could sneak into whatever hideout this guy is holed up in and get to him without anyone knowing." I remained silent for a moment, the instinct to keep intel about me secure always grated on me when dealing with Peregrine. I had been trained to stay separate from others, even those I trusted, to minimise the risk of being compromised. However, my resolve seemed to buckle under her frank honesty and ability to say things like she already knew the answer.

I let out a reluctant sigh and moved a step closer to her. "If I was killing this man and the conditions were right, yes, you're correct I would be able to do it undetected. It's what I do. However, once again my aim is to gain information, not perform a hit and from what Birdie has said one false move and we could lose this target like the last one. Something I am not prepared to do." Perry's head turned fractionally so I could see the beginnings of her profile, framed by the soft glow of the torchlight. "This option, of sending you in, as much as it goes against everything I have said before appears to be the most likely way to get what we want without raising suspicion."

As I finished my speech she shifted in her chair, resting her arm on the back of it to look at me properly for the first time. I noticed, with a jolt of surprise, that her eyes were rimmed red. It was hard to tell in the minimal light but it appeared she had been crying for some time. The unexpected sign of distress on her face sent a wave of confusion through me, wasn't this what she had wanted all along?

"You're a skilled handler Peregrine. Surely you see the logic in this approach as much as me?" I could feel my brow creasing as my bewilderment rose to the surface.

"I know it is 47." Her face twisted into a bitter expression as she turned away from me again. "I just needed to hear you say it."

My confusion was quickly overtaken by my frustration at her for complicating matters yet again. This was the job; its completion was all that mattered. Even after all her training and subsequent experience how did she still not grasp this? I closed the distance between us as my irritation at her took control.

"What is going on?" Despite my best efforts I couldn't help my anger seeping into my voice. I stopped by Perry's side, staring down at her expectantly as she tilted her head to see me properly from her lowered position. Surprise flitted briefly across her features before she skilfully rearranged them back into a stony expression, her eyes glinting icily.

"What do you mean, what's going on?" I may not have been the best at understanding the emotions of others, but I knew enough to sense I was on shaky ground right now. Her eyes narrowed to sharp points as she waited for me to respond.

"You wanted to be in the field, well here's your chance. Why are you getting so upset?" She sucked in a short breath at my words and I could feel the gradually building rage crackling off her like electricity.

"I'm getting upset because there's a difference between helping you when a situation becomes unpredictable and dressing up like a whore and walking into what is likely to be a shitty situation with that sleaze bag upstairs." Her eyes widened suddenly as a thought came to her. "Incidentally, who exactly is watching our charming guest whilst you're down here?"

I was struggling to contain my frustration at the way this conversation was going, "Birdie isn't going anywhere."

She gave me a disbelieving look before she narrowed her eyes and reached into her jeans pocket. "Well, even if he does he won't get very far." I frowned at her, uncomprehending, then she withdrew her hand and produced a phone I hadn't seen before. On it was a map, which after a moment of examination I recognised was the building we were in. There was a flashing red dot where we were and I realised what she was showing me. She had planted a tracker on Birdie.

I shook my head slowly in awe; one minute she was acting like an irrational teenager, the next she was showing a mind-blowing aptitude for her job. I felt my resolve soften slightly as she stowed the tracking phone back in pocket. "I won't let anything happen to you." My earlier harsh tone had lessened and I saw Perry's eyes warm a little as she looked up at me. Then before I could adjust to her changing mood it switched again, her face forming into a hard mask once more.

"You can't promise that." She shot at me bitterly as she turned away from me. "Birdie has given me the layout of the brothel he is arranging to meet at. It's in a heavily built up area but there is one good line of sight. I'll watch from there." The thought of sending her in completely alone had never been my plan, if I couldn't go near the brothel I would make sure I could see it.

"And what about Birdie? He could be walking us into a trap." There was a detached quality to her voice that didn't sit well with me.

"I've known him a long time, no matter how divisive those times were, and I've never seen him this sincere. He wants out of this agreement now Carter's gone, and we're his ticket." I watched her jaw tense as she focused on her laptop in front of her. I was still at a loss as to why she was so angry with me, surely she trusted me enough to know I wouldn't leave her completely vulnerable. The silence dragged out as she continued to stare straight ahead, eventually her muscles relaxed and she let out a barely audible sigh.

"Fine, I'll do it, although I'm not sure if I'll be able to pull off a convincing hooker. Besides it wasn't the safety aspect I was upset about." I tilted my head to the side, a silent question on my face. Perry glanced at me when I didn't reply, then shook her head sadly as she averted her gaze again.

"Don't worry, it doesn't matter." I wasn't sure if it was her dismissive tone or the fact that once again she was withdrawing from me, but the pent up frustration finally burst its banks and I felt every muscle in my body tense up as if preparing for a fight.

"Peregrine." Her codename burst from me like a gunshot, loud and abrupt. It had the desired affect; her head snapped round and she fixed me with a look that was one part shock, several parts defiance. If I didn't think about this carefully this could result in an argument, and an argument with Perry never seemed to go well for me. Unfortunately due to my seething resent at her unpredictable mood swings and uncanny ability to avoid me I no longer cared about the consequences. "I need you to be honest with me if we're going to do this."

She snorted and gave me an incredulous look. "Really? Then how come that rule doesn't apply to you?" I balked at her comment, but her voice was rising with her emotion and she ploughed on oblivious." What did Birdie mean exactly when he said you were drinking?" Her eyes were two flint sharp points of cold anger, but as always with her I felt the burning annoyance and rage wasn't deep rooted; that there was something underneath it all that she could never quite shake.

However, despite my determination to uncover her reluctance to work with me I felt myself closing off at the probing question. I wasn't sure this was the right time to delve into those uncomfortable feelings of the past five years. "That's irrelevant." I finally said in a cold monotone, my eyes flashing a warning at the impetuous girl before me.

As always my coldness triggered her fiery indignation and she slammed a fist down on the desk. "No! No, I think it's kind of relevant actually. Especially when I'm about to sell myself to a notorious Mexican gangster. What did he mean?" The menace in her tone almost matched mine when I was questioning a target for intel, she had picked up more from me than I had realised. An icy rod of discomfort shot through my gut at the thought.

She remained silent, her fist still clenched on the desk next to her as she glared up at me. Even though I had the height advantage I could feel the balance shifting between us. This was a regular occurrence when Perry managed to drag me into an emotional exchange, she would use my aversion to emotions to turn the tables on me. It was something I had never experienced with the calm, pragmatic Diana and certainly not with anyone else. It both aggravated and impressed me when she managed it. This time however I was more prepared, I would give her what she wanted but I would ensure by the end that she was ready for what we were about to do. I couldn't afford any part of our plan to be disrupted if it meant putting her in danger.

I softened my stance slightly, letting my muscles relax. Perry was still fixed in a position of aggression, but if she could learn from me I had done the same with her. I made sure my voice was lower and less confrontational before beginning my confession. "After Satu Mare I had some…emotional anomalies. I found alcohol helped to relieve them."

"What the fuck? So you're an alcoholic." Perry's exclamation made me frown. I didn't like her using that word to describe me. Even at my worst points Diana hadn't dared to voice her opinions on my behaviour, she knew I would never compromise a job. Evidently my other handler didn't feel I deserved the same respect.

"No, I'm not." I threw back in a decidedly forced calm voice.

"You use drink as an emotional crutch. Yeah, I kind of think you are." I could feel my mask of calm neutrality slipping, my hands clenching to mirror hers on the desk.

"Not anymore. Not since…" My throat constricted, cutting off the words that I had been willing to speak moments before. The training I had relied on all of my life kicking in again, closing me off when the other half of me clamoured to be more like my handler. I felt like I was splitting down the middle. No matter how hard I tried to resist the chaos that she brought into my life, I always found myself being drawn back into the storm with her.

"Since?" Her voice had softened but her expression was still defiant. I stared into her eyes as I wrestled with both halves of me, waiting to see which would claim control. The paused stretched on as I remained divided, until Perry let out an impatient sigh. "Oh come on 47, I need to know if my agent is emotionally unstable or not." The logical side of me buckled under her condescending statement.

"Don't test me. The only reason I am remotely unstable is because of you!" I growled through gritted teeth. Perry's expression darkened as I felt my control slipping rapidly, my anger, confusion and frustration mingling to form a potent cocktail inside me.

"I thought you weren't capable of emotions." She spat back, her voice rising to match me. Adrenaline shot through me as my anger flared, causing my senses to spike drastically. Suddenly I could see every detail in her face, her fiery flecked copper eyes flashing with rage, her teeth bared in a challenging grimace.

"Then you're clearly not as observant as I thought." An unconcealed disgust tinged my words, and I saw her flinch minutely before recomposing herself.

Her voice was bitter and sad as she responded. "No, I think I observe fine thanks. Every time I get a little too close I get hurt and then you distance yourself." I blinked at her, my fury abating somewhat at her unexpected grievance. She saw my surprise and shook her head, her eyes gleaming wetly in the torchlight. "Its fine. You made your feelings clear last time we talked and I've grown used to being an asset to you now."

I released some of my built up emotions in the form of an annoyed growl, as I pinched the bridge of my nose. I closed my eyes trying to regain some form of governance over my unruly human side. Even though I could no longer see her I could feel my partner's presence prickling against my senses, making me tense.

"Morgan." Her real name burst from me before I could stop it, I felt her stiffen in alarm at my break from protocol and I breathed it out in a long, weary sigh. "This is trying my patience." Slowly I opened my eyes again. She was staring at me quizzically, her eyes still burning with pent-up aggression. "My gun is an asset, you are more than that. I risked my career, my life to help you numerous times and I have never once betrayed you. Why do you still question my loyalty?" I wanted her to understand, I needed her to.

"You betrayed me in Romania, you sided with Diana when-"

"God damn it Morgan, _you_ left me!" The room felt dense with the silence after my outburst. I was pretty sure Birdie would have heard that from the top floor. The woman in front of me looked stunned, her mouth hanging open in shock. It was the most vulnerable I had seen her since being reunited. I took in a few steadying breaths before continuing, not able to trust my body anymore. "I didn't side with anyone, you were the one who ran away. You were the one who hid from me, and you were the one who didn't tell me the truth about the girl until you felt forced to." The anger had dissipated from my voice and I was alarmed to hear a high keening note to it instead, almost like sadness. She remained fixed in a state of astonishment, stunned into silence for once. "If anyone should be wary of their partner's loyalty," I continued, the keening note growing softer until my voice was almost too low to hear, "It should be me."

My senses were in turmoil, my insides a broiling mass of contradictions and uncertainties. The carefully built wall I had constructed was all but destroyed; I was tired of fighting myself as well as the world around me. A quiet acceptance fell over me as I took in the woman in front of me. My logical side had put up a good fight, but when it came to Morgan there was no logic.

"I made my choice five years ago. But since you seem determined to get the truth I'll gladly oblige. I turned to drink after Satu Mare to stop you from haunting me."

She gave a small gasp, breaking her bemused stupor. "What?" "I thought I was going crazy, the guilt was too much to take. I don't ever want to experience that again." I gave her a meaningful look and watched, as she seemed to dissolve in front of me. Her tensed muscles finally relaxed and she folded forward, clutching her stomach as if she had been shot there.

"I'm-I'm sorry 47. I thought…I presumed you'd just forget me." The honesty in her words cut through me like a blunt blade, the pain raking up my chest to my head. Now that I had given in, the force of my feelings was proving difficult to adjust to. Unable to reply to her I haltingly reached into the inside pocket of my jacket, where I kept my most precious procession.

The red handle of the knife shone in the burnished glow of the torch. I had cleaned it after the brutal fight on the plane, and as always carefully tended to the blade before storing it safely in my pocket. Slowly I extended my hand with the Swiss Army knife presented in it towards Perry. She noticed the movement and looked up, her cheeks shining wetly. Her eyes registered the birthday gift she had given me all those years before, then flashed up to my face. They were impossibly sad, but I detected a hint of something else in them. Before today I would have struggled to determine what it was I was seeing, however now I was sure I could pinpoint it. Affection.

"I'm not going to let you walk into that place alone. I'll be watching and if anything goes wrong I'll be there to get you out. Okay?" My voice was returning to its normal harsh efficiency. Her mouth quirked up into a pale half smile, I turned away suddenly, unable to look at her hopeful face anymore. Regardless of the change in me today, I still wasn't willing to lead her on. Feeling was one thing, but expressing those feelings was a step too far for me.

"Okay…47, you didn't have to-"

"I'm done talking Peregrine." I snapped, a little too severely but I needed to extract myself from the situation. She immediately went quiet and I could feel her watching me. "Be upstairs in five minutes so I can step you through the plan."

With that I exited the small office and the well of emotions without a backward glance. I may not have ended the conversation right but I instantly felt better on the other side of the door. Free of Peregrine's infuriating, challenging presence my head began to clear, and as I swiftly bolted up the stairs I was already running through the plan again. A jolt of nervousness I rarely felt fluttered through me, this wasn't exactly the riskiest plan I had executed but it had far higher stakes. Instead of me facing the inevitiable danger of death, or far worse, it was someone unpredictable and inexperienced. Someone I cared about.


	21. Chapter 20

Peregrine

Chapter 20

I tugged self-consciously on the hem of the short skirt Birdie had insisted I wear. No matter how many times I dragged it down closer to my knees it always managed to rise back up. It was a never-ending battle between my rising hemline and my falling top. Without constant supervision I was certain I would end up practically naked in a questionable alley, in the heart of Mexico City's cartel region.

"How is it, whenever I work with you I end up in impractical clothing?" I hissed venomously to the empty space in front of me.

"I'm not intending for you to do anything practical in them. It's a disguise Perry." It was strange hearing 47's cool voice echoing around my head; this role reversal would take some getting used to. I leant against the cool, graffiti plaster wall of the alley, the rough render scratching my nearly exposed back. I didn't care though, the pain of the uneven wall was nothing compared to the agony in my toes right now. I was sporting some ludicrous knee-high boots with an even more ludicrous high heel. I had given Birdie my worst death stare when he had presented them to me along with the rest of my outfit; a very short grey pleated skit and red backless strappy top. He had remained unperturbed, simply flashing me a sleazy smile.

"Well, just as long as I don't have to take them off." I muttered. This had been a fear of mine since 47 had suggested I infiltrate the brothel with our slimy friend. A deadly look had entered his eyes when I voiced my concern to him and he had insisted it wouldn't come to that. I still wasn't certain, but as I tugged again on my rapidly disappearing skirt Birdie sauntered towards me from the opposite end of the alley, grinning.

"Hey there, did you miss me gorgeous?" I shot him a petulant glower but that only made his grin widen. Reluctantly put my weight back in my feet, the instant crushing pain of the boots making me wince. How did woman wear these things all the time?

"Aww come on toots, my presence isn't that painful for you is it?" I was becoming more accustomed to Birdie's drawling tone; even so I still felt my mouth pull up into a sneer of irritation as he came to a halt next to me. Why did he have be to be such a creep?

We were in an alley not far from the brothel he had arranged to meet this El Chupacabra. It was midday, and the sun was already beginning to create a faint heat haze on the ground in front of us. I was stood in the shadows, partly to stay unseen but mainly to keep the worst of the sweltering heat off my exposed skin. The only advantage of being out at this time of day was that the locals were currently sheltering inside away from the blistering conditions.

"Really not in the mood right now Birdie? Did you get it?" His playful grin vanished and he leant uncomfortably close as he passed me something small and cylindrical.

"Course I did, although had to avoid a few pissed off meat heads when I snatched it from their car." I rolled my eyes at his flippant remark. Subtlety wasn't his strong point and the last thing we needed was a conga line of annoyed locals and police following us into this place.

"Couldn't you have been a bit more conspicuous?" Birdie cocked his head to one side, like a dog that had just misbehaved.

"Where's the fun in that? Besides, this is Mexico City, not as many people can afford a fancy self-driving car around here. I had to get what I could." I sighed and hid the advanced tracker Birdie had stolen inside a hidden pocket in my clothes. His dark eyes slid up and down my body as he offered an arm to me, his grin widening. "Shall we?" He asked suggestively. I ground my teeth together but seeing as I was struggling to simply remain upright in these infernal things I had little choice but to accept his help.

Grudgingly I inserted my arm in his, leaning my weight into him as we moved off down the litter strewn alley. Birdie half led, half hauled me through a maze of increasingly dodgy looking side and back streets. I used my free hand to self-consciously adjust my earpiece, Birdie caught the movement and flashed me a wry smile.

"You're going to have to learn to leave that thing alone." I shot him a venomous glare but lowered my hand anyway. My glare turned into a look of curiosity however as I assessed the man escorting me in these bizarre circumstances. I had done my usual back ground on Birdie when I had convinced him to help me get Victoria's file from the agency, so knew all about his past with them, still it was hard to picture him as an ICA agent. His smile faded slightly as he took in my quizzical expression, and he turned away, his dark eyes hardening. "I used to hate those things, buzzing away in my ear."

I let out a loud snort before I could stop myself. The sound brought Birdie's signature grin flashing back to his face. "My apologies toots, I'm sure if I had had you in my ear I would have been a lot more willing to listen." My brief moment of curiosity fell away to be replaced with nausea at the sight of Birdie's leer. I started as my subconscious heard a barely audible warning growl; I looked around wildly, confused about where it was coming from. Then the heat flared in my cheeks as I realised its source was the invisible earpiece nestled deep in my ear canal.

We emerged from a dingy side street into the full glare of the mid-afternoon sun. I had to shield my eyes with my free hand and could already feel the raw heat of the day cooking my unaccustomed skin. Being from one of the wettest, greyest parts of the world left me woefully ill equipped to withstand the Mexican weather.

Once my eyes had finally adjusted and I was able to take in my surroundings I could see we were now in a small square bordered by a jumble of rundown houses and convenience stores. There was a loose knot of people stood in the shadow of one of the stores; they were all burly men, holding various cans of what looked like alcohol. The rest of the square was deserted and I felt a sudden wave of self-conscious alarm sweep over me as Birdie made a beeline for the group of men.

"These are some of Estrada's men." He whispered to me out of the corner of his mouth. "Just don't talk unless someone asks you something." All bravado and sarcasm was gone from his voice, his tone was cold and business like, he sounded like an agent.

I could feel adrenaline begin to prickle beneath my skin, it felt like ice water inside me and sent a wave of goose bumps leaping out on my exposed arms. I tried to get my abrupt nervousness under control, as having goose bumps in this heat was going to attract suspicion. The men were laughing heartily at something one of them had said, they didn't notice our approach until we were half way across the square and they lapsed into a menacing silence. My heels sounded unnaturally loud in the now quiet square, and I could feel my heart beating uneasily as we drew closer to them. I arranged my features into what I hoped was a blank slate but judging by my internal turmoil and the darkening expressions, I wasn't sure I was succeeding.

Just as we were upon the men one of my heels snagged in the ground and I stumbled forward, clutching wildly at Birdie's leather jacket before I ended up face down in front of these gangsters. As I righted myself, my cheeks now as red as my top one of the men had lunged forward, reaching out a hairy arm to catch me. The others looked surprised and the man who had made a move to save me slowly looked me up and down as if seeing me for the first time. A languid smile spread across his face and he raised an eyebrow at me sardonically.

"Cuidado allí señorita. No quiero arruinar esa cara bonita." My Spanish was limited but I caught the words _miss_ and _pretty face._ Birdie had come to a halt after my dramatic introduction, and even though he was wearing his usual sly look I could feel his tensed muscles gripping my arm tightly. I could also feel a weighted silence on the other end of my earpiece. Even though 47 couldn't see us where we were he must have heard the man's comment and understood it better than me. The tense atmosphere made my adrenaline spike sharply and I swallowed nervously before forcing a charming smile back at the man.

"Gracias Señor." That was about the extent of my rusty Spanish but it appeared to satisfy the man as he leered at my chest before nudging one of his companions. The majority of them grinned back and muttered to each other enthusiastically in Spanish, the exception was a lean man to one side of the group, slightly more in the shadows, his face unlike the others fixed in a stern stare. He was looking straight at Birdie and I noticed Birdie was zeroed in on him as well.

"Hola Birdie, long time no see." His voice was thin and reedy, matching his appearance, but the other men immediately fell quiet again all joking forgotten. This man must was obviously their ringleader.

"Hola Manuel, I thought it was time to pay your Boss a visit." The tall man called Manuel nodded before stepping out of the shadows to stand between his gang and us.

"Nice puta you have there, glad to see you're enjoying yourself while doing business." His tone was sneering as he flashed a nasty look at me. I stopped myself from glaring back at the dislikable man, staying obediently quiet. Birdie let out a low chuckle, which made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck.

"Thank you, but she's not for me. She's a gift for your Boss actually." Manuel raised his eyebrows, scanning me thoroughly now from heeled boot to low cut top. It took every ounce of my being not to turn the air blue, telling this lanky bastard where I'd shove his eyes if he didn't stop valuing me like a piece of meat. Finally his eyes settled on my face and he gave me a nasty grin.

"Not his usual preference, but she should make a few pesos for him with that lovely pale skin." Birdie laughed but I was surprised to hear a forced note to it.

"That's what I thought Manuel. Now are you going to let me through or did you want to escort me?" He flashed Birdie a suspicious look before deciding it wasn't worth the time and shrugging noncommittally.

"You know the way amigo. Unless you think the puta is going to give you trouble?" He turned to his friends who were sniggering behind their hands, giving Birdie cruel looks as he shook his head, that forced laugh echoing around the deserted square again.

"Nah, I'll be fine homes. This one's got a soft spot for me." He unhooked his arm from my grasp and wrapped it round me, pulling me into his side in a clumsy embrace. The men continued to laugh as if at some private joke, and with a jolt of surprise I felt anger at them mocking Birdie like this. Also, a day ago I would have flinched at the unwelcome contact with the decidedly shifty man next to me, but now I was grateful to be with him as the men's laughter died down and they resumed their ogling.

"Come on sweetie, we've got the green light." Birdie's voice was still as oily as ever, but I detected the barest hint of steel in his words as he began to steer me down the alley I now realised they had been guarding. Their frenzied laughter and garbled Spanish faded away as we advanced down the cool, dark side street. The apartment buildings loomed on either side, casting dark shadows in front of us and making the sky a slim, blue slither above our heads. Birdie kept his arm around me as we walked, but he loosened it so I was able to move a little easier, or however easily I could walk in these boots. My heels clacked harshly in the quiet alley and once we could no longer hear the group of men I glanced up at Birdie's face.

He was staring straight ahead, his jaw tight and his eyes taking on a steely quality. I looked up at him in shocked nervousness, as his expression scarily resembled a certain other man I regularly found myself in sticky situations with. After a moment of me continuing to stare nonplussed at him Birdie finally spoke in a low, uncharacteristically serious voice. "They were the first line of El Chupacabra's security."

"Ask him how many more can we expect." 47's ice-cold tone made me jump slightly and the movement drew Birdie's eyes to me.

"What did he say?" He murmured in a lower voice than before and I realised he had been speaking for 47's benefit as much as mine.

"How many more can we expect?" I relayed.

"On a normal day three, but after everything with Carter in Chicago maybe five. We'll see." He raised his voice back to its normal level to answer and I could practically feel 47 digesting his words from whatever crow's nest he was perched in.

The adrenaline I had felt when we had approached those men before spiked drastically as I took in this unfamiliar man holding onto me. For all his bravado and deception Birdie was a trained assassin as much as 47 was, and I was starting to see that training now. I scanned his expression as he turned away from me, his intel delivered, and tried to assess him from a handler's point of view. He seemed tense, but there was a surety exuding from him that I had previously misread as arrogance. Now I could see it was skill.

"Why did you leave?" The words jumped from me in a rush and I instantly regretted prying. He didn't outwardly react to my impertinent question but I felt his rhythm falter before he continued on. Even though it wasn't the ideal time, I thought I deserved to know a bit more about the man I was going into this risky situation with.

The pause stretched on and I was sure he wasn't going to answer, and then he took a deep breath his chest expanding into me. "I was tired of the hypocrisy."

His answered took me aback and I stared wide-eyed at his profile. A small snort sounded in my ear as 47 voiced his own opinion on what Birdie had just said.

"Hypocrisy?" I queried. Suddenly eager to learn more about this man I had judged so quickly without really knowing anything about him.

"I would expect you to understand better than anyone sweetheart. They claim to be above everyone else and lay out their rules but when it comes down to it they're all just killers like the rest of us." His mouth quirked up into a humourless smile, "In the end I just got tired of pretending to be something better than I was."

"The rules and etiquette is what separates an agent from a common murderer. Birdie just didn't like taking orders." I listened to 47's response, but I couldn't deny part of me agreed with Birdie. The duplicity of the agency had been one of the reasons I had left. I had been seduced by the freedom and excitement 47's world had shown me, but in the end Birdie was right, we were all just murderers disguised as something more civilised.

I was jolted out of my contemplation by Birdie chuckling; he was watching me intently, his dark eyes trained on my perplexed expression. "Let me guess, the bald guy said the rules are there for a reason or some bull crap like that?" I didn't answer but my wry smile was enough for him, he threw back his head and let out a carefree laugh. The sound ricocheted off the high apartment buildings and I was certain every gangster Estrada had posted out here to keep watch now knew where we were.

"Typical, you can always count on my homie to defend that rotting, shambles of an organisation. Makes me wonder what is he so afraid of them disappearing for, eh?" Birdie gave me a meaningful look before turning his attention back to the winding alley. It split into a junction up ahead and I was vaguely aware of the feeling of being watched as we drew closer to it. Birdie tightened his grip on me again and I let him pull me into his side as the unusual conversation we had just had sank in. For all his repulsive, traitorous behaviour his comments struck a cord with me, and I couldn't shake the insistent way 47 had interjected when he rarely liked to talk at all. It was almost like he had been afraid I would agree with Birdie.

He glanced down at me again, a thoughtful look on his face as he regarded me. "You know, I admire you for what you did. Takes guts to put the middle finger up to an organisation like that." He muttered to me in a soft voice. I blinked up at him, uncertain how to approach this new Birdie I was encountering. Maybe I was being unfair to judge him so quickly off other people's opinions.

Two men emerged from the shadows to block our way ahead cutting off my train of thought. Assuming Birdie had been right about our friends earlier this was defence line number two. Despite there only being two of them these men were definitely more imposing, towering over both of us as Birdie pulled us to a stop in front of them.

"Manuel called ahead. You're late though Birdie, and what's with your whore friend here?" I wondered idly how the man who had spoken could move at all with the impressive muscle mass he was lugging around. His arms likely had their own gravitational pull judging by the size of them, he looked like the hulk. He flicked a lazy, appreciative eye over me as he addressed Birdie, and I suppressed a glower as the insulting remarks continued.

"She's a little present for your boss. Thought she would make a fine addition to his collection." It was easier to take the derogatory remarks from Birdie, at least he was aware of the deception.

"Is that so? Well me and Tuleo are going to take you the rest of the way. Unless you have a problem with that?" The Mexican hulk loomed over Birdie, flexing his biceps in a painfully obvious display of testosterone.

"Lead the way hombre." Birdie replied smoothly, that slimy grin plastered all over his face once more. Hulk turned and began leading us down yet another shady looking alley. His friend, Tuleo I presumed, waited for us to follow before bringing up the rear.

I winced as my heel gave way again, twisting my ankle awkwardly. Birdie subtly hoisted me up, giving me a seemingly worried sideways look as he forced me to keep pace with our unwelcome escort. After a few more moments of painful walking we finally escaped the dark confines of the maze of side streets and emerged onto a rundown residential street. A few of the houses had music blaring from the open windows and the unmistakable smell of cannabis filled the air. Across the road where battered rusty cars drove past I could see a group of children playing football on a barren scrap of land. A few adults sat out the front of their depressingly shabby looking homes, obviously keeping an eye on the children in this less than savoury neighbourhood.

As we exited the alley and began walking opposite them a few of the women shot me disgusted looks and I couldn't help looking away. One of the children let out a screech as they scored and my eyes flashed to the jarring scene of innocence amongst the noticeable hub of criminal activity. The child that was currently celebrating looked to be about Seren's age and I felt a painful splinter enter my heart at the sight.

"You're doing well Peregrine. Remember to stay focused and stick to the plan." 47's pragmatic tone snapped me out of my solemn thoughts. Instinctively I scanned the taller buildings located a few streets away. His comment would only have made sense if he could see me staring at the children playing. That meant we were close to the brothel and in 47's line of sight. The realisation made my senses heighten and I was convinced I could feel his cold blue eyes trained on me from wherever he was hiding.

Birdie dragged my attention back to him with an insistent squeeze of my arm. I looked ahead and saw we were walking towards what appeared to be a normal apartment building. There was nothing to signify that this was a brothel at all, it looked like all the other apartment buildings we had passed and no one was going in or out. In fact there was no one on the street outside it at all. I felt my skin prickle with fear at the unusually quiet scene of what was meant to be a deadly gangster's property. Something wasn't right and it took every restraint I had not to reveal my unease.

The only thing stopping me was knowing 47 was watching from the shadows somewhere, his sniper scope trained on the building and its many windows. However, once I was inside he'd be relying on my audio feed once more as all the windows in the apartment seemed to be blacked out for obvious reasons. Still, having him nearby was a comfort, and strangely Birdie's presence was a solid anchor by my side too.

We reached the front door, an ordinary, faded wooden affair with a few scrawled bits of graffiti on it. The hulk gave us a brief backwards glance before knocking heavily on it. The sound echoed inside the building and we waited awkwardly on the street for an answer. I risked a quick look over my shoulder to the residents we had passed a minute ago. The street and scrubby patch of land behind us was now empty, and the suddenly deserted street did nothing to calm my uneasiness.

The deafening clunk of the door being opened caused my head to whip back round and see yet another man's face peering suspiciously out from the small gap he had made. "¿Qué es?" He rasped at our escort. Hulk leant in and muttered something in Spanish, which caused the man's eyes to widen and yank the door open fully. "Come in, come in amigos. The boss is in the back." He crowed in a friendly voice, but as we edged past him into the dim, damp smelling building I felt my adrenaline levels increase yet again.

The corridor I suddenly found myself in with four, decidedly questionable men was narrow and dimly lit, making my slowly building entourage appear as shadowy figures next to me. As the man who had let us in closed the door behind us I watched with a growing sense of dredge as the bright light of Mexico's midday sun gradually decrease to a tiny slither, before being cut off altogether. My initial comfort at having the world's best assassin monitoring my position was rapidly decreasing as I felt the walls close in around me.

"This way." Hulk grunted as he moved off down the corridor. His broad back a black mass standing out only slightly from the dark surroundings. I closed my eyes briefly, letting Birdie guide me, taking in a deep breath of the musty air I tried desperately to quiet my jangling nerves. I had never liked being penned in, especially in unfamiliar potentially dangerous situations with a large quantity of people. A sudden memory from my past flashed up unbidden in my mind's eye; being crammed into a stuffy tube train on London's underground. The simple image from my old life was enough to set my heart hammering against my chest and I felt my knees begin to give way.

Birdie's arm was like steel around me as he kept me upright against him. I opened my eyes and searched for his face in the gloom. I couldn't make out much but his dark eyes glinted faintly, staring down at me. "Stay calm." He breathed, so quietly I was certain neither one of our friends had heard him.

A wave of relief washed over me, steadying my nerves and snapping my brain out of its unhelpful downward spiral. Even out of sight of my partner I still had someone who was highly skilled and adept at handling volatile situations. I clung to Birdie as the hulk reached a door at the end of the corridor, and I was rudely blinded by the harsh artificial light that suddenly filled the dark space.

"Ahhhh, Alejandro. What kept you? I heard you found a little bird." The smooth, drawling voice reached me before my eyes could adjust to the rapid light change. I blinked, trying to clear the glare from my vision as I sensed we had moved into a room filled with a lot more people.

A large carpeted reception room greeted me once my eyes were able to focus on my surroundings. In the past this might have been the main living area for one of the apartments, now it was obviously being used as a reception area for the clients of the brothel. There were an array of mismatched sofas and loungers arranged around the edge of the room with a number of scantily clad women and yet more of Estrada's men.

El Chupacabra himself was sat in a high backed chair at the opposite end of the room; he regarded us confidently, his head leant casually on one hand, his piercing, intelligent eyes drilling into me even from this distance. I swiftly dropped my gaze, adopting the persona of a fearful woman. He was wearing expensive, designer clothes and was well groomed compared to his followers, however there was the definite stench of violence about him. One thing was for sure he certainly wasn't going to be easy to crack.

"Birdie! My amigo, I've been waiting for you." He bellowed, his tone the same as the man who had let us in, friendly, but with a deadly edge to it.

"¿Qué pasa? Elpidio, it's been a while." I was taken aback by Birdie's self-assured tone in this aggressive environment. It seemed everyone except from Estrada was staring at us, waiting for their chance to attack. But Birdie's similarity to his ex-colleague was becoming more and more apparent, and I found myself grateful for his involvement once again.

"Come, stop standing in the door like a couple of vagabundos, come forward let me see this 'present' you've decided to bring me." My heart promptly leapt into my throat as Birdie pulled me forward. There was a heavy silence on the end of my earpiece, and I knew 47 was listening intently to the events playing out. This was it; our plan relied on Estrada not getting suspicious of me.

"Oh yes, very nice. You have a good taste in women my slippery friend." I continued to stare determinedly at the floor. When we had discussed this inevitable part of the plan I had made it clear my skills were lacking when it came to being even remotely alluring. Going out with my friends from University I had always hung back and found interactions with boys painfully awkward, so pretending to be prostitute was my idea of a nightmare.

I focused on the faded red, threadbare carpet underneath my ill-fitting boots as Estrada slowly stood up and walked towards me. His highly polished leather shoes came into view as he came to a stop in front of me. "Bonita, how old is she?" I supressed a shiver as I felt his cool hand on my shoulder, he ran it lightly down the length of my arm as he questioned Birdie.

"I'm not sure, she said she is in her twenties." I remained motionless.

"Hmm, shame she isn't a little younger but still…not bad amigo." I gritted my teeth at his sickening comment, the anger I had felt at discovering his undercover trafficking operation threatening to flare up inside me. "Lift your head." His tone was commanding as he addressed me, his hand moving to my chin to reinforce his request. Reluctantly I let him pull my face up, my loose hair falling back as I met his gaze.

He could have been considered a handsome man, he was in his early forties but had retained the good looks he had obviously had in his youth. However, his eyes even though they were the colour of warm coffee, were flat and bottomless, like a shark's. Every instinct I had wanted to yank my chin away from him and gain the high ground immediately on this dangerous man. I kept my expression blank as I let him look me over, I felt completely helpless and I hated it.

"Gracias Birdie. Alejandro search her for me." My blood ran cold as with an abruptly dismissive gesture Estrada pushed me towards the hulk who had brought us here. I tried to remain impassive as he grabbed me mid fall as I stumbled unceremoniously into his beefy arms.

"She's clean homes, no need to worry." Birdie's nonchalant delivery hid the undeniable panic he was probably feeling as well. He had insisted that Estrada wouldn't bother searching a common whore, his contempt of women one of his few weak points.

"Well we'll find out won't we? And it gives us a chance to look at the goods." Estrada let out a nasty laugh and his band of goons joined in. I looked around the room wildly hoping for some kind of inspiration but there was only one exit and we were hopelessly outnumbered. 47 was still quiet in my ear and I found my gaze locking onto Birdie's face as Hulk's hands began patting me down in an overly enthusiastic manner.

He was still holding it together pretty well, his expression one of disinterest rather than concern at what this might mean for us. A worrying thought flashed through my mind; maybe he had planned this from the start. Luring us into this situation, separating us then getting one or both of us killed. Suddenly his insistence at 47 not entering made sense, if the assassin had come he would likely have killed everyone including Birdie and walked away. But me…well, I was just a handler. He knew I wouldn't stand a chance and he would be free to get away from 47.

My eyes narrowed slightly as the erroneous thought took root and gradually started to make sense. Birdie turned away, his face still impassive and my fear started to morph into a hot rage at his assumed betrayal. "Sorry about Carter homes, the ICA stuck their nose in and messed things up." Birdie gave Estrada an apologetic grin as the gangster boss focused his attention on my deceitful partner.

Alejandro the hulk was now working his way down to the lower half of my body and nearing the location of Birdie's carefully stolen advanced tracker. I was positive if they found that on me then things would kick off, but there was no way for me to dispose of it without causing suspicion. I needed a distraction but with Birdie now disinterested in me my options didn't look good. The Hulk gave me a nasty grin as ran a meaty hand up my leg, pushing my skirt up. The bile rose in my throat but acting as a prostitute I couldn't exactly slap his hand away. Still my legs instinctually tightened, blocking his hand from going any further.

"Come on now senorita, that's no way to behave." The muscle man was starting to enjoy himself but I was determined I would fight until the bitter end. Or at least long enough for 47 to weigh in on the situation. I hadn't heard from him since we had been outside the brothel, maybe he had decided the situation was too risky now and had left. But I pushed that depressing thought down as memories of our emotional talk a few days ago came back to me.

"Yes, Carter was unfortunate. However, it is no problem. Apparently there are plenty of Cicada front men willing to earn a little extra cash." My ears pricked up at the sudden turn in conversation. Estrada was giving Birdie a cold stare, the latter had his arrogant grin back in place.

"Oh yeah, you got more of them to ship you the kids?"

"I might have. Although given your track record I'm not sure I want to involve you in my operations anymore."

Maybe this whole thing wasn't a lost cause, I thought as my own problems got decidedly worse as hulk pushed my legs apart. The tracker was hidden in a small pouch sewn into my ridiculous skirt. If the plan had gone as Birdie predicted no one have gone near that area, but now I found myself straining away from my assailant as his giant hand inched closer to the offending item.

"See it's not so bad is it pollito." His sneer coupled with his wandering hand nearly made me throw up right there and then but I kept my cool, eager to hear where Birdie's conversation was going.

"Oh don't be like that. It wasn't my fault, I was efficient when the guy was alive wasn't I? So who's the new source?"

I could feel the tracker burning into my thigh as hulk continued his search.

"You expect me to just to tell that information in the middle of all these people? Tsk, tsk Birdie, you should know better."

My heart stopped as his knuckles brushed against the hard cylinder hidden in the pleats of my skirt. His eyes widen in shock as they flashed up to mine.

"Well, I presume these guys know about your little trade deal online. A name won't mean much to them. I came here to make things right, help me to help you."

 _Come on, a name. Just give him the damn name!_ I screamed internally as hulk flipped the hem of my skirt up, looking for the unexpected object which had bump his hand.

"No, that's not how I operate. You know these bastards; one false move and they'll be on top of me and my businesses. I have a good life here, I would like to keep it that way." My heart sank as Estrada shut Birdie down, and my time had officially run out. Mexican hulk ran a hand along my skirt; the fact it was around my ears currently in a room full of strangers was the least of my worries, as he slipped one of his sausage fingers into the tiny opening and removed the advanced tracker.

"Hey boss! Look what I just found." I winced visibly, the adrenaline now flooding my system sending me into overdrive. Estrada turned to look at his lackey with an irritated expression on his face. It quickly dissolved to be replaced by shocked fury when he saw what he was holding though.

"A tracker?! Your little whore has a tracker on her?" Estrada grabbed Birdie by the front of his shirt and shook him before throwing him to the floor. He was next to me in two quick strides, taking my arm in a vice like grip and twisting it painfully behind me. "Who do you work for perra? Cicada? The FBI? Who?!" His head was next to mine as he shouted into my ear, I grimaced as they began to ring, making my ability to think straight even more fucked than it already was.

I was bent at an odd angle due to Estrada pushing my arm into my back, but I could still see the scene unfolding in the room and it wasn't good. All of Estrada's men were on their feet, their weapons drawn. There was everything from pistols to automatic rifles, someone even had a shotgun, but they all had one thing in common…they were all directed at me. Birdie was still on the floor, his face a blank mask as he watched Estrada take his fury out on me. Cold hard hate filled me as I glared back, the time for pretense was obviously over. Things had gone south fast.

"Tell him you didn't know it was there." 47's voice cut through the mayhem like a sharpened knife. Calmness instantly took over and I managed to whimper in a convincingly shocked voice, "I didn't know it was there. I swear."

Estrada shook the arm he was holding, sending jagged waves of pain up my shoulder to my head. "You didn't know? Maldita perra, ¿para qué me tomas?" I tried to take deep breathes, to get some focus back in my head, but I was struggling to see how this would end well.

 _Please come 47, please I need you._ I prayed as I heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being un-holstered. Moments later the cold metal of the barrel was pushing into my temple and it took all of my training and experience over the last five years not to completely lose my shit.

"I'm sure this will loosen your lying whore tongue." Estrada hissed at me, his unbridled anger evident now. I closed my eyes and listened as the gun clicked signally Estrada had unlatched the safety. There was only silence in my ear now. He wasn't going to make it, not this time. I was alone. I cursed everything; I cursed 47 for showing up again, I cursed myself for following him like a pathetic lost lamb again, I cursed this disgusting, corrupt world and I cursed Birdie for betraying me. Although the last one shouldn't have been a surprise, I had been stupid…no 47 had, for believing he could ever be trusted.

"It was me."

My eyes snapped open at the sound of Birdie's voice. It was loud and authoritative, it was nothing like his normal voice. I craned my neck to see him as Estrada paused in his interrogation of me.

"Excuse me amigo?" He spoke in a slow, deadly voice. Birdie was still on the floor but his face was determined, his dark eyes flashing.

"I said it was me homes, you need your ears cleared out?" Estrada's grip loosened on my arm enough for the pain to become more bearable. More importantly the barrel of the gun disappeared from my temple as he turned to face Birdie.

"You put the tracker there? What the fuck man, you expect me to believe that?" Birdie's jaw tightened, you could hear a pin drop in the nearly full room. "Yes, I do. She's just a dumb whore, I planted it on her, she had no idea." Confusion swept through me, what the fuck was he doing? What was his angle? His infamous grin was back now, but there was a defiant edge to it.

"And why would you do that?" Estrada finally let go off me, letting me fall to my knees on the rough carpet. I wiped the back of my hand against eyes, clearing the water that had gathered there from my painful assault. They shot a question at Birdie as Estrada advanced on him, he looked at me briefly, a worried apologetic look before flicking his eyes back to the gangster.

"You know how it is, I had to have a back up in case you decided to turn on me." My stomach twisted and I dug my fingers into the carpet as I saw what he was doing.

"Well that worked out well didn't it amigo? So what now? You got your old ICA pals winging their way here to off me?" Birdie shook his head grinning.

"No, believe me if they were you'd probably already be dead you sick pervert." Estrada threw back his head and let out a long, loud laugh.

"You got balls, I always admired that in you. But a tracker? Man, you know better than that." Birdie's arrogant expression fell and he looked at me. An honest open look of fear and worry. His grin was gone and he gave me a small half smile, which froze in place as Estrada put the pistol to his head and pulled the trigger.

The bang made everyone flinch, even the most hardened of Estrada's men. Birdie collapsed in a limp heap on the carpet, his brains staining it a darker red. My heart was pounding somewhere up by my vocal cords and I could feel the tears running hot and fast down my face now.

"Put the puta upstairs with the other new girl. I can at least take something from this meeting. Oh and somebody clean this shit up." Estrada's voice was monotone and bored as he holstered his pistol. I stared numbly at the messy pulp that had been Birdie's face a few seconds before; that could have been me. Someone dragged me to my feet but I couldn't bring myself to move them. The someone huffed in annoyance and began to half drag, half carry me out of the room and back into the dark corridor.

I kept my gaze fixed on Birdie's corpse for as long as I could, then the door swung shut and I was alone in a brothel full of gangsters.


	22. Chapter 21

**A/N: Hi all, another chapter, sorry for the delay again. This one has a bit of graphic violence and may contain some triggers for sexual/domestic violence so just be warned. Also I have slipped a sneaky cameo in, just for my own shameless fun. Thanks all for your patience and as always, read, review and enjoy! :)**

Chapter 21

The panic was starting to set in. I was still numb from the shock of Birdie's sacrifice, but I could feel my limbs shaking with built up adrenaline. Alejandro continued to haul me up what felt like the hundredth flight of poorly lit stairs, my feet scrabbling to get purchase on the hard floor. I could hear sounds of life down the corridors we passed, stomach churning, best not to think about it sounds that were probably common place in a brothel. I wouldn't know, this was the first time I had ever set foot in one.

Nevertheless, it wasn't the setting or the events that had just taken place that were driving me into a panic; it was the deathly, unavoidable silence in my ear. 47 hadn't utter a word since Birdie's unexpected death, and now the plan was pretty much in free fall I had kind of hoped he would chime in to give me some idea of what to do now. But the silence persisted and the higher up we climbed the more alone I felt.

"Here we are. This is your floor." The hulk manhandling me sneered as he manoeuvred me down a corridor on what must have been the top floor, and barged unceremoniously into a room at the far end. There was a stifled yelp from the corner of the bedroom I now found myself in. Alejandro shoved me forcefully forward and I staggered onto the double bed that dominated the modestly sized room. "You girls have fun, I may be up later to pay a visit."

He let out a particularly nasty laugh as he shut the door behind him, the sound of a key turning in the lock reverberating in my ears long after he had left. I took a steadying breath and peered around me, searching for the source of the yelp that had welcomed me into the room.

Apart from the bed I was now sat on there was a sofa set against one wall and a chest of drawers opposite. The one window in the room was boarded up as I had seen when I was outside earlier; the only source of light was a small, exposed bulb hanging from the ceiling. The weak light coming from it just about reached the faded red walls. In essence it matched the rest of the building; rundown and seedy looking, but what else would expect from a brothel.

There was a bundle of clothes piled in the corner of the room and I was pretty certain that was where the noise had come from. I squinted in the poor light and raised my eyebrows when the pile shifted revealing a slim, tired looking woman. The pile of clothes I thought she had been hiding under was actually a blanket wrapped around her thin frame, she glared at me with dark, suspicious eyes, her short hair sticking up in odd angles. She propped herself against the wall and continued to regard me warily from her unorthodox resting place. She was very striking; her eyes rimmed by heavy eyeliner and her lips coated in a bold maroon coloured lipstick. Underneath it I could see she was extremely pretty but the constant scowl and unusual black marking by her left eye obscured it slightly.

"You just arrived here?" She asked me abruptly. Her accent was thick and from somewhere in Eastern Europe, Russia I guessed. I was still trying to get my bearings so simply nodded dumbly at her, not willing to show my hand too soon. She made a frustrated noise before standing up slowly, the blanket still draped around her. "What's the matter? You look like you've seen the devil." She snorted, her mouth twisting up briefly into a bitter smile before she let it drop again. I got the sense this woman hadn't seen much in this life to make her smile, it seemed like an effort for her even to muster that much.

She waited a moment more then shrugged at my stubborn silence and picked her way cautiously over to me. I stayed still, treating her like a skittish animal. With 47 still MIA I didn't want to scare off the only other potential ally in my currently very shitty situation. She sat down next to me on the bed, her scowl slowly morphing into a frown of confusion. "You can talk can't you? They haven't started bringing in cripples now as well." I blanched slightly at her coarse comment. Now that she was closer I could see the black mark by her eye was a tattoo of a Chinese dragon. The brazen marking on her face reminded me of my currently ambiguous partner and his own brand. I focused on it as I listened desperately to the persistent silence in my ear. _Where was he?_

"Well, mute or not, you've really hit the bottom of the shit heap if you're here." She turned away, obscuring my view of her tattoo and I blinked clearing my vision and my head of the shock of what had just transpired.

"I'm new to this sorry. This is all a little…overwhelming." I suppressed the Welsh intonation in my voice and lowered my tone to a mousy whimper. It seemed to work, the woman shot me a cold but largely sympathetic look before wrapping part of her blanket round me. Her thin bony arm pulled me awkwardly into her, but the unexpected warmth of another human was enough to make me feel slightly less alone. It had been a while since I had felt that, the memory of Seren's small, soft body gripping onto mine flashed unwelcome and white hot through me.

"I kind of guessed that. You looked a bit…fresh, for this place. Never mind, life is a constant kick in the face, just got to get used to kicking back sometimes." There was a steely note to her voice as she hugged me awkwardly. I knew she was trying to comfort me but I got the impression she resented my naivety in some way.

She let go; leaving the blanket draped around us and gave me a reproachful look. "Listen, you need to toughen up okay? The kind of men they have in here they can smell weakness and they like it. Believe me, I've only been here five minutes but I've heard some fucked up shit about this place. But we have to survive, so here we are." I kept my expression neutral as I looked back at her, I had never met a prostitute before and I felt a weighty shame come over me as I realised that probably none of them had chosen this life, that they were all just women doing what they could to live.

"What have you heard?" I probed gently, hoping I could gain some advantageous information about this hellhole. She shot me an uncertain look then deciding I could take it she continued in her same brash tone.

"It's just rumours but I heard the guy who runs this place deals in the worst kind of fetishes." She lowered her voice then as if somehow they were listening, I leant in keeping my expression innocent. "I heard some of the other girls talking, saying that a lot of the jobs that come here are into younger looking whores. One of them even let slip that there might be a kid here, can you imagine?" I straightened up, my heart leaping at the mention of the changeling we had seen advertised on the deep web. Was Estrada really keeping him here?

My mind began to race as I tried to assess where he would keep him in a building like this, but I quickly had to check myself. I would be lucky if I managed to get out of here, let alone with a child in tow. My stomach tightened as my predicament remained the same. I touched my ear tentatively, hoping it was simply a lose connection that was causing this unnerving silence. The woman sat next to me was more observant than I had first realised however, as her sharp eyes flashed to my finger pressing down on my ear cartilage.

"What are you doing? Is there something in your ear?" I dropped my hand instantly as her gaze darkened. "Are you hiding something malen'kaya mysh'?" I sighed as I took in her fierce but also terrified expression.

"I can't explain but I really need to find a way out of here. You see the person who brought me here, he was killed just now and I have a feeling I'm going to be next." Her eyes widened in shock and she abruptly stood up, the blanket falling off of her as she stared down at me distrustfully.

"That noise I heard just now, that was a gunshot wasn't it? That was you." Her stance was aggressive but there was unmistakable fear in her eyes. This was a woman who was used to witnessing violence. The ruse over I carefully extracted the earpiece from inside my ear. The tiny spherical object rested inanimately in my palm, but the woman stared at it like it was a poisonous spider. I looked glumly down at it, the only connection I had to 47. A creeping doubt entered my mind that maybe he had decided it was too dangerous to risk extracting me and had cut his losses. I shook my head, trying to clear it of those toxic thoughts; he had promised, he said if anything happened he would be there. I had to be patient and stay out of danger in the mean time.

"What's your name?" I asked the woman in front of me. Not that it was important but I had the feeling she was going to be my best bet of getting through this. Her eyes narrowed, the dragon tattoo creasing as she assessed me.

"My name doesn't matter, as I'm sure if I was to ask you yours you wouldn't give me an honest answer." She raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at me. I answered with a faint smile.

"No you're right. No names it is then." I let out a heavy sigh and glanced down at the earpiece in my hand again.

"That thing won't work in here." The nameless woman said abruptly. I looked at her sharply, she stared defiantly back at me her lips pressed in a thin line. "They're very paranoid here. The minute I entered they took my phone off me, and when I kicked up a fuss with the other girls they said anything like that doesn't work inside. Some sort of signal blocker or something, I don't know." She shrugged half-heartedly.

"Shit, that would explain that then." It was true the minute I had entered the brothel I had heard nothing but radio silence from my watchful partner. It was very likely then he wouldn't know what had had happened to Birdie, what with no audio and no windows to look through. The loneliness I had felt since Birdie's unexpected sacrifice intensified as my mind speculated where 47 was.

 _No, he's on his way,_ I told myself. I had resolved to stop doubting him so much since his confession before. The outpouring of emotion had taken me aback, but I couldn't deny it had made me mildly hopeful. Perhaps he wasn't as much of a cold, emotionless killer as he had always tried to convince me. There was a man in there somewhere.

"How long have you been here?" I asked my newfound friend. The original plan of getting Estrada to reveal his new contacts in Cicada was long gone, but if I could get out of this room and to an entrance it would make it easier for 47 if he did try to come for me. Unfortunately with no way to know for certain I had to predict what the assassin would do, but anything was better than sitting here like a useless idiot.

She paused for a moment, her expression unsure as she decided whether to answer me. "Not that long, a few weeks. Why?"

"What's the security like here? Are you free to leave if you want?" The woman pursed her maroon lips sourly.

"This is less of a brothel, more of a prison. I was given to this guy because my last pimp couldn't control me, lets just say I'm locked in here with you for trying to escape already. His men may look like stupid bastards but they're far from it." Her expression suddenly switched to a wary one. "You're not going to try anything are you? I'm already in enough trouble and the guys here…well they can be fucking rough when they want to be." A shiver passed through her and she glanced fearfully at the door.

I regarded this juxtaposition of a woman for a moment; she had a hard outer shell, all spiky hair and confident makeup, but underneath I could sense the nervous energy building. A great swell of pity washed over me, she must have had a hard life to find herself here. I thought about helping her get out too, but then I had to remember I had already thought about the child somewhere downstairs and I was going to struggle to save myself, let alone half the workers in this brothel.

The silence between us was broken by the sound of heavy footsteps on the floor outside. The woman jumped as if someone had touched her with a cattle prod, shooting a worried look at me before retreating to her corner again. "Stay quiet, he might not be here for us." She whispered urgently at me. I shoved the earpiece into the hidden pocket in my skirt now that it was empty, and clutched the blanket I had now draped around me tighter against my body.

The footsteps got louder and then stopped outside our door. My heart was beating a deafening tattoo in my ears as I prayed for the person to pass. I exchanged a look with the woman now crouching back in her corner; her dark eyes locked onto mine as the sound of a key turning in the lock signalled my prayers had not been answered.

The man who had led us in with the hulk Alejandro entered the room. I vaguely recalled him being called Tuleo and I felt a nervous shiver run up my spine as his sharp eyes scanned the room, finally settling on me.

"Hola señorita. The boss told me to come and give you an initiation." His voice was soft and as smooth as silk. He stepped into the room smoothly shutting the door behind him, I felt myself stand up, not wanting to be in such a vulnerable position. He followed my movement with his intensely focused eyes; I didn't like this one, he wasn't like the other men I had met so far. "He apologises also for the little…episode, you had to witness."

His eyes slid from my face to focus on the woman in the corner, I saw her flinch noticeably under his stare out of the corner of my eye. My nerves were on edge, unsure how this situation was going to play out. I jumped as Tuleo's eyes snapped back to me, his thin face impassive. I was used to the expression but there was a threatening quality to it that made me what to retreat rapidly.

"Make no mistake, the boss still doesn't trust you. That snake Birdie brought you here so you're guilty by association. But he's never one to pass up a free gift, so I'm here to teach you the rules." His eyes darkened to a deadly glint and before I could react his hand flashed out and grabbed my wrist painfully tight, preventing me from moving away. "El Chupacabra likes his girls submissive. We have a very particular clientele here and we aim to please."

His grip loosened on my wrist but I was frozen in place by his stare. The impassive expression melted away to show a truly horrifying smile, his eyes burning with something I really didn't like the look of. He stroked the top of my hand with his thumb, the suggestive feel of it making the bile rise in my throat. "You look a little terrified. Good, a lot of our guests like that." He leant in, his hot breath smelt like alcohol. "I like that." He whispered into my face. I felt cold dread sweep through me.

Abruptly Tuleo drew back dropping my wrist, he regarded my useless immobile state for a second before striding to the other side of the room. "Don't worry señorita, I'll get to you in time. The boss always likes to be the first to sample his assets." The woman cowered hopelessly in the corner as he approached her. Bending down in one fluid movement he grabbed her by her short hair and yanked her to her feet violently. She let out a yelp as she clawed uselessly at his hand. "For now I'm just going to teach this puta a lesson and show you what happens when you try and defy us."

He flung her unceremoniously on the bed and stood over her as he began to remove the belt he was wearing. I was in turmoil; part of me was aware that with his attention focused on the woman there was a chance for me to escape. I hadn't seen him lock the door behind him. On the other hand, the violent and cruel act I was obviously about to witness made me want to gouge this monster's eyes out. I remained still, unable to look away as he dragged the woman towards him by her foot. She was half growling, half screaming at him now, propping herself up on her elbows as she tried to pull away from him.

Tuleo's face twisted into a sick smile as he held her in place, her struggling only intensifying. A jolt of electricity shot through me, making my spine straightened as he turned his frightening look towards me. "This ones a bit of a fighter. The boss isn't so keen on that, but I quite like it." He flicked his tongue over his bottom lip, reminding me of a snake. I backed away from the scene, bumping into the chest of drawers. Tuleo raised the hand not holding onto the woman, his belt brandished in his closed fist. "Don't worry, I won't damage that lovely face of yours. Wouldn't want to lose money on you." I gripped onto the furniture behind me, anticipating the blow before it came. The woman let out an ear splitting scream as he brought it down, buckle first towards her torso.

The sound of it hitting her was guttural. Her scream was cut off but a loud huff as the air was knocked out of her. She was wearing similar clothes to me, ergo not very substantial, so the metal buckle of the belt had slashed against her partly exposed flesh, ripping into it with ease. She was still struggling, her expression more angry than fearful but when he raised the belt again I saw a flash of primal terror in her dark eyes.

 _Don't be the hero_. 47's cool voice was so clear in my head I thought my earpiece was working again. The ghost of his words echoed around my head like a warning. He had always despaired at my inability to let injustice lie; to walk away and focus on what needed to be done. He had never said as much but I knew he saw it as my main weakness, my Achilles heel. The ICA had tried to train me to remain neutral, to kill those I was ordered to kill regardless of circumstance. But it had always been a bitter pill to swallow and one I had never quite got down.

The belt flew through the air one more with a high whistling sound; the woman's rough grunt was like a comma, then the desperate scream started again. This time blood began to leak from her wound and drip down her side. For some reason I couldn't help noticing how red it looked against her pale skin. Her excruciating cries were now punctuated by harsh Russian words, which I assumed was swearing. Her spirit was impressive and I felt the white-hot rage begin to build inside me at this brutal, pointless torture.

My stasis was beginning to break, my hands gripping the chest of drawers behind me so hard I was sure my fingers would sink through the wood at any minute. The now exposed door beckoned, the promise he had made whirling round my head, trying to convince me to walk through it and leave this horrendous scene behind.

 _I'll be watching and if anything goes wrong I'll be there to get you out._ He'll be there, just get out of this room and he'll be there. Even though I knew it was just words I felt repeating it made it seem more real, as if he was already walking into the building downstairs.

Thwack! Another hit and this time the woman began to sob, her resolve breaking. I watched as the blood seeping from the slashes on her belly soaked into the bed sheets. She stopped trying to pull herself away and instead covered her damaged body with her arms. Tuleo let out a loud, triumphant laugh.

"Had enough yet puta?" He goaded her. The woman simply wept unable to respond now. "You see pretty one. It's best if you just do what we say." The rage bubbled inside of me and I zeroed in on the belt in his hand. One on one I'd have no chance but if I caught him off guard maybe, used his strength against him, I might be alright.

 _No. Too risky. Get out and find a safe place._ My logical side appeared to have fully adopted 47's voice now. It was irritating; he had always been a lot harder for me to ignore. How long had it been? Twenty minutes, half an hour, an hour? Shouldn't he be here already?

I felt completely in the dark, and I hated it. I missed my computer, I missed the control I had always had as a handler…I missed my bow and machete. If this was my forest instead of some grotty Mexican brothel the odds would be drastically different. The anger grew again as I watched Tuleo discard the belt to one side and begin to undo his jeans. The woman began to struggle again as he gripped the edge of the shorts she was wearing and ripped them.

 _You can't save everyone_ , the 47 part of my brain chastised again, desperately pushing me towards the door. I mentally shoved him to one side and waited for my moment. Why would he discard his weapon? I thought idly as I began to edge around behind the struggling pair. Typical fucking man, always thinking with the thing in his pants, not the thing between his ears.

Tuleo was laughing manically now, clearly enjoying his sick game. He didn't notice me slip past him, he didn't notice me picking up his belt, and he didn't notice me move up behind him the belt now held in a loop in both my hands.

"Puta perra, stop kicking. This is what you deserve." There was a notable strain in his voice now as he forced the woman's legs open. I took in a steadying breath, the adrenaline sending newfound strength to my arms as I raised the belt over his head.

"Get the fuck off me, you fucking bastard!" Even between great heaving sobs she still sounded fearsome. Gritting my teeth I channelled all my anger at this man and all he stood for in this hellhole of a place. Decisively I wrapped the belt around his neck and pulled on it with all my body weight. He let out a surprised, strangled yell and attempted to pull the belt away from his airway. I waited for him to lean back, instinctively trying to free himself from me, then delivered a sharp kick to the back of his legs. He crumpled to the floor and I let him go.

It didn't take him long to flip onto his back, his eyes now wide and filled with confused anger as he looked up at me, standing over him. I didn't wait any longer for him to get his bearings; gathering the belt in my hand the same way he had, I raised it over my head and began hitting him as hard as I could. The belt bit into his face, his neck, his arms, as he lifted them in vain to protect himself. I didn't let up, releasing all of my anger onto him. I kept going until my arm felt like it was on fire, my vision blurred and it became impossible to see through the rage that was flooding my body. Someone was making a primal, growling noise and it took me a few moments to realise it was coming from me.

Finally I stopped and stood over the still form of Tuleo, breathing heavily. His face was a bloody mess, hardly recognisable now as I stared down at my handy work. His eyes were swollen shut, his cheeks were cut up like he had got into a fight with a large animal, his mouth was mangled and bleeding profusely. He emitted a gargled, keening moan as I stood there, a seething mass of energy.

"What the fuck? Is he dead?" The woman's voice cut through my berserker state, I blinked at her a few times before shaking my head.

"No. Not yet." I stepped to the side of my groaning victim, he made to grab at my ankle in a limp gesture. Blood frothing from gash in his face that used to be a mouth, as he turned on his side. I scanned his body, a look of disgust on my face as I kicked his reaching hand away. There was a bulge in on of the pockets of his partly undone jeans, I reached down and took the butterfly knife that was in there. The rage was quickly giving way to the cold numbness I had always felt when dealing with the intruders to my Uncle's farm. This was survival after all, there was no doubt in my mind after he had finished with the woman he would have turned his attention to me, no matter what his boss said. Now to finish him.

I deftly flicked the blade of the knife so it was open, the razor sharp edge glinting in the dim light. Tuleo was still groping around in front of him, his groans morphing into unrecognisable words. Gripping the knife tightly I stared impassively down at the creature on the floor. "Don't look." I commanded the woman now kneeling on the bed, her hand clutching her wounded stomach. She stared at me blankly for a second before the colour drained from her face and she hurriedly turned away. Without thinking anymore about it I grabbed a handful of his thick curly black hair and pulled his head back. His fingers formed claws as they tried to grab at my legs but I stamped on them viciously, eliciting another agonised cry from him. I placed the knife on the tender flesh of the man's throat and with one decisive movement cut open his jugular, letting the blood spill to the floor in a viscous pool.

The numbness spread as I slowly stood up and wiped the blade casually on the bed sheet. For the first time since leaving the farm and plunging myself back into this unfamiliar world I felt in control again. Suddenly escaping the building didn't seem like such a formidable task. I had let myself slip back into the role of handler too easily. I had survived five years with some of the world's best killers coming for my head; I could handle a few two-bit gangsters.

"First things first." I muttered to myself as I pulled my feet out of the cumbersome, impractical boots Birdie had made me wear. A pang twisted my stomach at the thought of my unlikely ally in all of this. I made a silent promise to tell 47 what he had done for me; the man deserved that much at least. Flinging the boots to one side I then tore a strip off the bed sheets and handed it expectantly to the woman. She looked at my proffered gift, nonplussed and with an exasperated sigh I gestured at the still bleeding gashes on her skin.

Gingerly she accepted, realisation dawning on her face, and began to wind the material around her midriff. "What are you planning to do exactly? You just cut a guy's throat in here, you think they're just going to let you walk out?" I gave her a grim half smile.

"No. They won't, but they don't know who they're dealing with." She let out a snort.

"I can believe that after what I just saw. Still, you're on your own." I shook my head.

"No, I'm not." I forced a full smile to my face even though I wasn't certain I believed my own words. The woman raised her eyebrows. I couldn't hear anyone approaching the room, even though I was sure my scuffle with Tuleo would have created some commotion. I regarded my enigmatic roommate for a moment, her nervousness peeking through that spiky exterior.

"You said you tried to escape before, you still want to?" She blanched at my apparently odd question, the defensive walls instantly springing up around her.

"Yeah, it's why I'm in here." I placed a hand on the still unlocked door.

"Come on then. Stay quiet and do exactly what I say." The thought that this was probably a foolish idea crossed my mind, but leaving her here in this god-awful place after what I had seen her go through, just didn't feel like an option. Her dark rimmed eyes widen and she looked like she was going to refuse, then tentatively she slid her slim legs off the bed and stood up. She moved over to stand by me, tactically avoiding the now pale and stiff form of her attacker. I eyed her hastily applied bandages, the blood was already seeping through the thin fabric and I noticed her wincing as she moved. Yeah, this was definitely a bad idea, but as 47 would attest to that had never stopped me before.

My new companion watched me, waiting for me to make the next move. I placed a finger to my lips to reinforce my request and pressed my ear to the door. Still no sound. Shifting my bare feet on the rough wooden floor I gently opened the door to the dark corridor outside. There was no one in sight, however my skin prickled in anticipation. All the sounds of the brothel I had heard on my way up here had faded to nothing. The building was deathly quiet.

I crept out of the room, being careful to test the floorboards for noise before pressing my weight onto them. All my skills hunting deer in the woods had paid off. I was conscious of the woman following close behind me, her footsteps not quite as soft as mine. Moving as quickly and quietly as I could I approached the narrow stairs I had been dragged up earlier. The silence was starting to unnerve me; I strained my ears desperately trying to hear anything that would signal an impending attack.

I glanced over my shoulder at my shadow; she was surprisingly nimble in her high heels her eyes fixed on me, her mouth set in a determined but tense line. If my memory was correct the front door was down three flights of stairs, I hadn't seen a back door, although truth be told, I hadn't seen much of anything in the dark. I peered round the wall to look down the stairs. Just as I was about to set off down them I heard the sound of someone approaching.

My pulse jumped, as the heavy footsteps got closer. I wasn't sure, but it sounded like there were two of them. Flattening myself against the wall I signalled for my companion to do the same, she gave me a horrified look as she obeyed. Adjusting my grip on the knife in my hand I listened as the thud of feet continued to get louder. There was no doubt in my mind they were coming for us, the whole house was probably on red alert by now. A sinking feeling hit me as my confidence at getting out waned. Killing one man in the heat of the moment was one thing, but could I really take on these attackers with only a knife and a pray?

I had no more time to ponder on this however; as the first man suddenly hurtled up the stairs and into the corridor we were standing in. He was brandishing a handgun his eyes wide and staring, searching for the fight he had clearly heard. Not waiting for him to spot us, or give myself time to second guess what I was about to do, I drove the knife hard into the man's throat. He let out a startled gasp as the blood sprayed from the wound, covering part of my face. I grimaced and quickly kicked at the side of his knee to bring him down. The gun he held flying from his hand and skittering down the corridor.

The woman flattened herself even further into the wall, the horrified look was still there but I saw a glint of steel in those dark eyes of hers. As if she was enjoying the sight of that man clutching his throat as he scrabbled around in front of him. Meanwhile I had other things to worry about, his partner was already barrelling around the corner his mouth falling open at the sight of his fallen friend.

This time I didn't have the element of surprise. As soon as he came into view his gun was aiming at me, and there was no EMP to save me. I saw him squeeze the trigger in slow motion, and without commanding it to my hand holding the knife flew up and lodged the blade deep into his wrist. The man screamed and I waited for his grip to loosen on the gun. I made a grab for it but he recovered quicker than I expected and rammed my body into the wall with his weight.

The air in my lungs came out in a shocked huff as he jabbed his shoulder into me painfully. I tried to push against him but it was no use, he had size and strength on his side. My adrenaline rocketed as I felt his hand, still holding the gun, begin to move up my back.

"Buen intento estúpida perra." He growled into my ear as the cold barrel of the handgun brushed against my cheek. I sucked in a sharp breath as I sent my last ounce of strength to struggle against him, but he had me pinned tight against the hard plaster. A loud bang rang out over the sound of my useless struggling. Seconds later my attackers weight lifted from my body and I whirled around ready to confront him. Instead I found him lying on the floor, a perfect red hole in the side of his head.

My head snapped around searching for the flash of red tie and a familiar shadow. All I found was the woman I had rescued holding a gun, the barrel of it emitting a fine trail of smoke. Her eyes were as wide as saucers but that glint I had seen before was now a definite fire.

I let out a long sigh and bent over, trying to slow my wildly beating heart. This was so fucking stupid, I was losing count of the amount of times I had had a gun pressed against my head since meeting 47. And every time I had either been saved by him or a stroke of dumb luck. Now as I stared at my newest saviour, a sour anger twisted in my gut. How could I expect to do right by Seren, to protect her, to free her from this madness if I could barely protect myself?

I gave the woman a brief nod before retrieving the handgun from the second dead man's hands. Without looking back I descended the stairs, the gun held ready in front of me. I was getting out, finding 47, then going after Estrada for the information me needed. This wasn't over, by a long shot.

I heard the click of the woman's heels behind me as she followed. We flew down two flights before we encountered our next obstacle. The giant hulk Alejandro had his back to us, blocking the stairs. My jaw tensed as his head began to turn and I aimed the gun, breathing in to steady my hands. The shot rang out as I blew the back of his skull off. Blood and brains shot up the walls as his massive form crumpled.

"That's for sticking your meat hands where they didn't fucking belong." I spat at his corpse as I leapt over it. I heard a faint snort of humour behind me as my companion did the same. The rage I had felt killing Tuleo earlier was flooding back as we hurtled down the last flight of stairs. Passing the other hallways, I saw them lined with curious heads poking out from the rooms coming off them. The commotion was building, stealth was no longer my main concern; I planned to take out every man that stood in my way. For Birdie and for myself as well.

I slowed slightly as we reached the ground floor. The corridor was still dark and I had to strain to see the two shadows rushing towards us. We fired simultaneously, the gangsters and the whores. I felt a bullet whistle past my ear, inches from face. The shadows crumpled but continued running, although it was now a slightly wonky run. I narrowed my eyes, focusing through the gloom, channelling all of 47's rigorous lessons. Two quick shots and the gangsters collapsed to the floor, a few feet from us.

I glanced at the door leading to the reception room where Birdie's brains were still likely smattered over the floor. There were raised voices and the sound of scuffling feet on the other side. "Get ready. We're going to make a run for it." I murmured to the woman next to me.

The exit was in sight but I had a feeling an army was about to burst through those doors. Just as I was preparing to launch myself towards the door I heard a series of loud thuds. I paused, confusion washing away my rage, as the sounds from other side of the door changed from shouts of anger to exclamations of surprise.

I moved over to the closed door and pressed my ear to it. "What you doing?" The woman hissed at me, the same confusion I was feeling written on her face. I held up a hand and cautiously open the door a crack. I saw a bright, familiar flash of red silk and I threw the door wide.

"No!" The woman yelped as she leapt up and grabbed my shoulder ready to pull me away. She stilled as she took in the scene I was watching, a small, satisfied smile on my face.

47 moved as if he were made of something ethereal. It was hypnotising to watch as he danced around the room, dislocating a shoulder, breaking a femur, firing a bullet through someone's eye socket. The room was in chaos trying to pin him down, but he was unstoppable, a demon in a black suit. Despite the macabre display I felt my heart lighten at the sight of him, his blue eyes flashing fire as he broke another man's neck. He had kept his promise. He had come for me.

Eventually there was only one man left, Estrada himself. Standing by his ridiculous high backed chair, his gun held uselessly in his hand. 47 dropped the last of his victims and turned to face me in the doorway. His eyes scanned me quickly, assessing my state. They briefly flicked to the woman still clutching my shoulder, and I felt her shiver under his gaze.

Estrada spat out a string of profanities in Spanish as he levelled his gun at the back of 47's head. Without even looking,the assassin raised his arm, aiming his silenced pistol at the man stood behind him and shot him directly in both knees. Estrada let out an agonised scream as he dropped to the floor. 47 casually turned and walked towards the prone cartel boss.

"Who is he? Do you know him?" There was awe in the woman's voice as she whispered in my ear. I nodded, my smile stretching as I moved further into the room eager to see what would happen to our target.

"Yeah, he's with me." I reassured her. I sensed her following me still as I approach the formidable figure of 47 stood over the still moaning Mexican.

"What you want amigo? You want money? Girls? What?" 47 was motionless, staring down at Estrada with those icy blue eyes of his. I wondered how many of his targets had looked into those eyes like I had but seen only death instead of the steady calm I did. "Come on man, is it Birdie. You pissed I killed him? You're Cicada aren't you? Talk to me." Estrada's tone was becoming more panicked, as 47 remained silent. I felt my grin pull at my face as the bastard who had murdered Birdie began to blubber.

In one fluid movement, like a rattlesnake striking, 47 reached down and gripped Estrada throat with a gloved hand. "Who is your contact?" He lifted the wheezing Estrada as his face began to turn red. His spit started to froth at the corner of his mouth and just as his face was shifting to an alarming shade of maroon, 47 dropped him abruptly. His head smacking against the floor with a loud thud.

"C-contact, w-what contact?" He choked, his blood shot eyes searching 47's blank face wildly. Again he swooped down and gripped Estrada's throat, this time pressing him into the floor as he knelt down beside the struggling man.

"Your Cicada contact." Estrada's eyes bulged as he struggled for air, his mouth opening and closing like a land locked fish. He held him to the edge of unconsciousness, waiting for his eyes to roll back into his purple face then let go once more.

Estrada let in a raking gasp, then coughed so hard I thought his organs were going to escape through his blue lipped mouth. "I don't know, I don't know the guy's name. I just get messages, messages from somewhere in Iowa. That's it I swear, he gives me the locations of the kids, I collect." He looked up at 47, his expression pleading.

I watched, my blood cold, my senses numb. Once upon a time I had witness 47 interrogate someone else, driving them to the brink of death until they begged for it. It had turned my stomach. Now I was revelling in it, watching my imagined revenge play out. I marvelled at the dramatic change in me but didn't flinch from it. It was what was necessary to achieve my goal of protecting my daughter. I needed to become like the man in front of me if I was going to survive in his world.

"Thank you, you've been very cooperative. Although if I'm honest I expected more considering what I heard about you." 47's voice was smooth as he gripped Estrada again and proceeded to crush his throat completely even as he cried out in protest. Leaving his target's limp body where it lay, 47 straightened up and turned to look at me. "Iowa." He stated simply. I nodded; it was enough, I could work with it. He moved to walk by me, his stride even and unhurried.

"The boy is here." I found myself saying as he drew level with me. He stopped and stared down impassively at me. We stayed like that for a moment, an unspoken conversation passing between us before finally he simply nodded once and moved out of the room. Something had truly shifted between us, an understanding reached, a bond formed. I trusted implicitly that he was going to find the changeling and he wouldn't harm him.

The woman I had saved and who had saved me in return shifted uneasily as his barcode tattooed head slide out of view. "So…that was intense." Her eyes were locked on the place where 47 had been, a strange frown on her face like she was trying to remember something. I smiled and squeezed her shoulder gently.

"You're free now. And thank you…for saving me." She looked at me, her gaze distant. We had both killed to save each other, that was something big we shared. I hoped she would find happiness somewhere; god knows I was sure I wouldn't.

"No problem." She said, half in a daze. She started to walk towards the door then stopped a few feet from it, and looked back at me. "My name. It's Nika by the way." She flashed an uncertain smile at me. I returned it.

"Mine's Pere...Morgan. I'm Morgan." Her smile widened. Then she blinked her dark lined eyes and shoved the handgun she had taken in the back of her ruined shorts. I watched her as she left, the dragon tattoo by her eye standing out like a marker as she faded into the darkness. I waited a beat, for the sound of the front door to close and the silence signalling her safe retreat before going to find 47.


	23. Chapter 22

**A/N: Hey everyone, so I know a lot of you have been waiting a looooooong time for this chapter, so please enjoy. And for those who aren't so keen I hope you agree I have kept this particular arc as faithful to the main character as possible. As always read, review and I do hope you enjoy! :)**

Chapter 22

The dishevelled, terrified looking boy stared up at us. He was cowering in the corner of a tiny bare room, the only light was coming from the area outside and it cast an odd shadow on his obviously starving face.

"His eyes are clear." 47 murmured suddenly next to me, his own eyes glowing slightly in the dim room as he regarded the changeling. I frowned up at him then turned back to assess the boy; it was true, his eyes were a light brown and despite being full of terror they were bright and focused. I had only had a few run-ins with these formidable child assassins, but I knew a good way to pick them out was their strange, glassy eyed stare. It signalled the chip in the back of their necks as in control. I had had nightmares when Seren was younger of waking up to her standing over me, her beautiful ice blue eyes filmy and distant as she wrapped her tiny hands around my throat.

I swallowed, the bad memory leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. 47 shot me a sideways look, his expression stoic but I could sense his concern as he gauged me. "I don't think he's dangerous." The assassin's brow creased slightly at my comment.

He didn't look like he was going to protest however, so I let a warm smile spread across my face as I looked at the boy again. He regarded me with an uncertain expression, his arms and legs tucked into his body as he shrank back further into the corner. A swell of pity at the sight of him hit me; what must this child's life been like so far? Created in a lab, trained to kill and then abandoned and sold into slavery. I tried to think of the right words to persuade him he was safe now, in truth I had no idea if he was yet. Seren certainly wasn't, so what made me think I could do anything for this boy?

Before I could form my haphazard thoughts into any kind comforting words, 47 knelt down and offered his hand to the child. "You're safe with us. Come on, we have to leave." His voice was soft and encouraging, it sent a jolt of shock through me to see this uncharacteristic behaviour from the usually aloof assassin. The boy eyed 47's hand warily for a moment, before to my utter amazement, he uncurled himself slowly and took it. 47 stood up again, keeping his movements languid so as not to frighten the changeling.

I stood, my mouth hanging open, and watched as 47 gently extracted his hand from the boy's and nudged him towards me. I held out my own hand and the child clung to it gratefully. That same pang of longing echoed through me as I felt his small palm rest against mine in a familiar way. Looking at our intertwined fingers I noticed how dirty the boy's skin was, it looked like he hadn't had a wash for ages. His eyes, although bright, were in sunken hollows, and his cheekbones were far too prominent for my liking. Anger flared in my chest at the signs of neglect, but it was quickly replaced by a sense of satisfaction that we had already dealt his captors all the justice they could take.

I had followed the trail of destruction to 47's location after leaving the reception room above. Bodies had littered the stairs down into the basement, and anyone foolish enough confront the assassin had been eliminated swiftly. I had found him standing outside the locked door to this room, staring in through the small window set in it, his expression unreadable.

Now he gave me an odd look as I held the changeling's trembling hand, waiting for his cue to leave. We slipped silently back out of the dank basement room and I tried not to think too hard what would have become of the boy if we hadn't taken him with us. We picked our way past the multiple bodies 47 had created to get us here, the boy flinching into me at the sight of one man's half intact skull. Despite his reluctance before he now gripped my hand with a bone crushing strength. For anyone else it might have been alarming, but for me it was just another painful reminder of my absent child. My mind began to wander to her, hoping she was happy and safe where she was.

"Here." 47's curt tone snapped me back to the present just as we reached the ground floor again. I blinked in mild bewilderment at the cylindrical object he was holding out towards me, before taking it with my free hand. It was the advanced tracker Estrada had taken from me before shooting Birdie in the face. Or at least it was another one exactly like the one he had taken. He paused in the dark corridor, watching me with those iridescent eyes of his. I rubbed my thumb over the smooth metal of the tracker searching for the tiny indent in its casing. Finding it I pressed it in, triggering the tracker's signal.

47 was staring down at the two heavies I had immobilised, his expression as always impassive. "Did you do this?" He asked abruptly, still examining the bodies at his feet.

"Yes…They were running to attack us." At this, the assassin looked up at me. His face blank, but surprise evident in his stare. He didn't say anything, simply flicking a last look at my handiwork before striding off towards the front door as the unmistakable sound of a helicopter grew overhead. I shot a confused look at his retreating back before following, the boy still hanging onto my skirt.

I slowed to a halt as I reached 47 who was now stood, his ear pressed against the closed door, his silenced pistol drawn and held against his chest. I refrained from asking what exactly he was hearing over the thunderous clapping of the helicopter which had grown to a deafening level already, and bit my tongue further as he opened the door a crack and aimed his gun. The boy let out a whimper as 47 fired off three quick shots and pushed the door open wide.

Three fresh bodies lay on the rundown street outside. Three more of Estrada's men; clearly they hadn't got the memo about their boss' new state. Two were still, their eyes staring at the clear blue sky above us, one was groaning as he clutched a bleeding wound on his chest. He scrambled for his dropped gun as 47 strode past, but wasn't fast enough, as the assassin fired another shot directly into his forehead. I hurried the child along next to me, shielding his view of the violence.

The sun had lowered in the sky somewhat since I had last seen it. A hard lump formed in my throat as I remembered Birdie would never see it again, he was still lying somewhere in that rotting building because of me. A shadow passed over us, the boy stared up in terror as the helicopter swooped overhead and turned in a wide arc. Our ride had arrived. 47 strode, unperturbed, down the now deserted street, his pistol held loosely by his side.

"It's okay. Come on." I encouraged the changeling as we trotted behind him. Now we were in the bright light of the Mexican sun I could see how truly miserable the child looked. He was wearing too big clothes for him that were dirty and ripped. His feet were bare like mine and there was a messy crop of short brown hair on his head. He looked for all intents and purposes like an ordinary boy, but the small red scar on the back of his neck said otherwise.

47 was still quite a way ahead of us, his long effortless strides far out pacing our awkward stumbling behind him. It was difficult to keep up with no shoes and a small person attached to my waist. He stopped in the middle of the street, opposite the bare patch of land I had seen the local children playing football on earlier. He shot a brief glance over his shoulder at us before turning his attention to the hovering helicopter above us. I grimaced as the wind began to pick up as the rather impressive, military grade aircraft started to descend towards the open patch of land. 47 observed its progress too, his stance relaxed, although I could see the slight tension in his jaw. Was he worried about something?

The helicopter came to a rest, expertly placed in the centre of the relatively tight parking space. I tugged on the boy's hand and jogged over to make shift helipad as the pilot jumped out of the still running vehicle. Charlie, the charming smuggler, nodded professionally at 47 as the assassin passed him and opened the side of the helicopter. The cockney pilot's face split into a wide grin as he looked at me, and I couldn't help returning it.

"You alright darling?" He bellowed over the roar of the rotary blades. I nodded in reply, grateful to see the cheeky man again. His eyes flicked to the boy trying to hide behind me and his expression softened. "Got another nipper in tow I see. You seemed to collect them don't you?" I didn't reply, keeping my expression neutral, but I noticed 47 rolling his eyes in exasperated agreement at Charlie's comment. My look hardened; he was going along with my rescue mission, but obviously he didn't agree with it still.

Charlie, done with the pleasantries placed a firm hand on my back, encouraging me to bend forward as he guided me towards the open side of the aircraft. Flanked by the two men we clambered into the helicopter. I hastily fastened the boy into one of the few seats in the military aircraft. He stared up at me with wide, uncertain eyes as I tightened the straps against him before fixing myself to the seat next to him. Just as I had finished 47 hopped lightly in through the open side and with a cursory glance towards us he slide the door shut after him. My narrowed eyes followed him as he took the only seat left, positioned opposite us. He was acting unusual, his manner distant and almost annoyed. I ran through what I might have done in my head, but nothing he hadn't already agreed to came up.

A small, firm hand gripped my wrist as the helicopter wobbled into the air. I could see Charlie sat in the cockpit, a large set of headphones jammed on his messy hair. I looked around me and found a pair of my own hanging just behind my seat. Taking them I placed them on my own head, with a start I noticed 47 had also put a pair on as I turned back to face him. He was staring blankly at me, his blue eyes locked onto me as if he was trying to read my mind. What was with him? We had got the information, most of us had made it out, why did he look so damn mad?

"Welcome aboard all. I'll try and make the ride as smooth as possible but it can be hard with these god awful gunships." Charlie's bright tone reverberated in my head as I returned 47's unnerving stare with a neutral expression of my own. Two could play at that game.

"So where is it you're heading?" Charlie twisted slightly in his seat to face us.

"Iowa." 47 replied in a cool monotone. I saw our pilot's eyebrows rise as he glanced sceptically at the child next to me, before shrugging and turning back.

"If you insist guv', going to be a long trek though. Let me know if the little lad needs anything." A small smile crept onto my face. The man's kindness reassuring me we had made the right call asking for his help.

I let out a worried sigh. Iowa was a big place, was I really so confident to believe I could locate the source of Estrada's messages? I was capable of a lot, but the stakes were rising with each lead we got and so was the enormity of what I was being asked to do. 47 didn't look like he was in the mood to talk to me anymore, and I made a mental note to ask him what his problem was when we reached our destination. The journey lapsed into silence, the only sounds were the constant rumble of the helicopter blades and the occasional update from Charlie. Eventually I felt the boy's grip loosen on my wrist and I noticed with a maternal pang that he had nodded off, his head resting lightly on my arm.

After another hour I felt myself begin to drift. The horrendous events I had just escaped from starting to catch up with me. My eyelids got heavier and heavier until I could barely lift them at all. I let the rhythmic vibrations lull me to sleep. 47's cold gaze the last thing I saw.

* * *

"I need a new laptop." I insisted for the thousandth time to my ever aggravating partner. He simply shot me a sideways look as way of reply and continued walking down the main high street in the small Iowa town we were now in.

We had already purchased new clothes, mainly for me as I couldn't exactly walk around as a bare foot hooker anymore. Although 47 had gone into the most expensive suit shop he could find in this tiny rural place to get a new suit jacket. It appeared his had been torn in the melee in Mexico and he blatantly couldn't stand to not look his best for whatever we were about to do here. I had stifled a laugh at his disgusted expression as the poor man who ran the store was presenting his best wears to the intimidating bald man that had strode in. The humour had quickly died as his snobbishness continued, I knew it was one of the few things he cared about outside killing people, but there was no excuse for bad manners.

Just as the quivering store owner looked like he was about to break down into terrified sobs I stepped forward and elbowed the assassin hard in the ribs. He had looked down at me, his expression fierce but I held my ground glaring back up at him. It had been the only focused interaction we had exchanged since the brothel. Even as I had talked to Charlie about the arrangements for the changeling I was leaving with him, 47 had kept his back to us, ignoring the conversation all together.

I thought about the timid boy now, as my new, tight fitting sneakers slapped against the tarmac. I hoped he would be okay, part of me felt bad for shipping him off with the cheeky smuggler but we couldn't have him tagging along and Charlie's kind smiles and gentle words to him came back to me as I thought about the pair. They would be fine for now. I would contact Charlie as soon as this was over.

My sneakers squeaked loudly as 47 came to an abrupt halt ahead of me, forcing me to brake suddenly. Flashing an irritated look at the back of his head I stepped nimbly around him trying to find the reason for our sudden immobilisation. His face was still set in a stern mask, and instead of talking he merely gestured abruptly with his head to the shop we were stopped in front of.

It was a computer store. There were a few dated looking consoles in the window and a few beaten up laptops. I scanned the faded sign sceptically; Horton and Son's Computer and Electrical Store. Grimacing, I looked up and down the quiet high street. It was likely my best option for getting myself back online, there wasn't exactly a tech store on every corner like there was back in London. 47 watched me as I let out a resigned sigh and pushed open the door to the shop. A small bell sounded as I entered; Jesus if this place offered me anything I could use to track Cicada I would eat my new shoes.

The inside was similar to the dated outside. Shelves lined the walls of the small store, all crammed with more boxy monitors and ancient computer towers. I couldn't see anything that looked new, and most of the items appeared to be repairs rather than products I could buy. There was a low counter at the opposite end of the store with a giant till that was another relic from the past. The bell chimed again signalling 47's entry into the unassuming shop, I could feel his eyes assessing the contents of the room although I was uncertain if he had much idea about what I needed.

After a few awkward moments of standing in the deserted shop a man in his late sixties emerged from a door behind the counter. He had a friendly, if not wrinkled, face and watery blue eyes that twinkled behind thick rimmed glasses. He had a checked shirt that was rolled up to his elbows and well-worn corduroy trousers. He smiled broadly as he caught sight of us, I imagined customers were a rare occurrence in this place.

"Well hello there. What can I help you with?" His voice was soft but sure and I instantly felt myself warming to the old man.

"I need a new laptop if you have any?" My tone was dubious as I moved further into the shop, coming to stand on the other side of the counter. The man chuckled at my question and leant down to pick up a large ring binder. With an impressive thud he deposited on the counter and began to leaf through it.

"I do indeed. What spec were you after? I've got a decent model here that's just come in." He landed on a page with a picture of a shiny red laptop, his finger running down as he read. "It's got an i11 core, 32GB RAM and a high speed chip inserted from Cicada Co to optimise your internet connection." I ignored the last thing he said as I was going to dispose of the chip as soon as I could anyhow, but I raised an eyebrow at the other specifications. Chagrin flooded my expression, as I realised I had been as bad as 47 in that suit shop when I'd entered. I gave my shoes an appraising look; seemed this place wasn't going to be as useless as I had originally thought.

"Sounds good. Does it have a thunderbolt port?"

"Sure does." He replied with a toothy grin.

"How much?" I asked. He looked over his glasses at me then as if seeing me for the first time. His blue eyes slid from my expectant face to just over my shoulder where I knew 47 was standing waiting for me to be done.

"For you and your handsome man we'll call it $2500." His eyes glinted with steel as he dared me to haggle him down, but I wasn't in the mood for a fight. It might have been the icy atmosphere between me and 47, not helped by the man's assumption that we were a couple, or maybe I just felt sorry for the old guy in his ancient looking shop.

"You've got a deal." I answered with a smile. The man raised his eyebrows at me, obviously taken aback by my willingness to spend so much money.

"Alright then. I'll go get it from the back. You paying cash or card?"

"Cash." 47's deep voice made the man jump as my previously silent partner stepped forward. He narrowed his eyes slightly at the well-dressed bald man now reaching into his jacket pocket but decided not to question him.

"Fine by me." He said as he disappeared again into the back room. Once he was out of view I turned on the assassin stood next to me.

"Isn't it a tad suspicious paying for that much with cash nowadays?" He looked down at me, his expression unreadable.

"Isn't it a tad reckless buying such an expensive item in a small town?" My patience had officially run out with his mood and I folded my arms defensively as I glared up at him.

"I need a laptop to find our lead. Unless you're happy waiting in this place for the next week for one to be shipped to me I suggest you let me get this one now. Besides I wasn't the one who scared a local half to death just buying a suit. You've been acting odd ever since Mexico." I had just finished hissing at 47 when the store owner remerged.

"Here it is. Is everything okay?" He was watching us warily, a large box clutched in his hands, as we stood feet apart glaring at each other.

"Yes, of course." I replied a little too forcefully as I pulled my gaze away from 47 and turned my attention to the laptop the man was offering me. He let me take it out to examine it and it was a beautiful thing. I ran my hand lightly over the red cover as the old man watched me, that twinkle in his eye.

"She's a beaut isn't she? My old man said computers would change the world and looking at where we are today, I think he was right." The reverence in his voice made me look up. "These new microchips are a wonder. They enhance any technology they are in and keep them safe to boot. I'd like to shake the hand of the man who came up with it." He gave me an awkward look then, holding up his hands. "Or woman, no reason it couldn't have been a woman who invented it." I flashed him an odd look in return, and decided to change the subject from the dangerous ground it was currently on. Not that I thought I was going to spill anything about our true intentions for his laptop, but just talking about Cicada made my skin crawl.

"Have you been working here your whole life then?" I asked, off-hand.

"I started here when I was just a boy and took over when my father past away. Now I have stores all over Iowa. My son is in charge of the wider company, I prefer to stay in the original here, with my regular customers." I nodded, enjoying the man's story. It was nice to meet someone that didn't want to kill me or lie to me.

"We need to go." 47 muttered just behind me as he placed the large bundle of cash for the computer next to my hand. Annoyance flashed through me at his rudeness again, but I ignored him and thanked the old man kindly before packing my new laptop away.

"If you have any problems with it just let me know. My name's Michael by the way, the surname's on the front." He grinned and I felt myself returning it. I liked this man. Tucking the laptop under my arm I waved a goodbye and walked out, the bell tinkling on my exit.

"Let's get back to the motel so you can use that thing." 47 shot at me bluntly as he began to stride off ahead of me. I ground my teeth together as I jogged to catch up.

"Sure. And when we get there we need to talk." I muttered to him in a threatening tone. He continued to walk quickly down the tiny high street, but shot me an odd look.

* * *

The motel we were staying in was clean and comfortable but, much like the town we were in, it was very compact. To avoid suspicion, we were once again sharing a room, but this one only had the one double bed as furniture. I had claimed it as soon as we entered. After everything I had been through in the past 48 hours and with 47's recent attitude adjustment, I was determined I was getting the bed. He could suffer on the floor.

Much to my continued annoyance he didn't seem to mind. He had laid some of the spare sheets out on the well-worn, dated carpet and having stripped off his tie, suit jacket and shoes was sat cross legged on the floor in front of the bed, predictably cleaning his pistol. I had just finished removing the well-hidden Cicada microchip that had been implanted in my new laptop when it was made, and was reassembling it when the pent up annoyance and confusion at my partner's mood reach breaking point.

"If I've done something to offend you I suggest you get it off your chest now before I find out where we're going next." My words came out in a bitter rush and I felt my pulse pick up as 47 lifted his head from his task to fix me with those infuriatingly calm eyes.

He was silent for a moment before his brow creased infinitesimally. "You haven't offended me." I felt the anger flare in me.

"Then what the actual fuck has been the matter with you? Ever since the brothel you've been acting like an arse, and seeing as you were the one who told me to go into that situation, I'm struggling to figure out what I've done to cause this much distain." 47 responded by carefully placing his half cleaned pistol on the floor beside him and folding his arms across his chest.

"Can I clarify? You think I'm annoyed at you?" His tone was matter of fact and I closed my eyes in exasperation.

"The way you've been acting towards me since Mexico, yes, I kind of think you are. I know you probably think taking that kid was a bad idea, and busting out that other woman, but I'm not like you. I can't just turn a blind eye when it doesn't suit the mission." His frown deepened, then he nodded in agreement.

"I know. I'm used to your heroic streak by now." I threw my hands up in despair. This conversation wasn't panning out the way I had expected.

"Then what is it?" 47 remained still for a moment, his eyes fixed on my confused face. Then he closed them and let out a long, weary sigh. I watched in bemused fascination as the assassin slowly unfolded his legs and stood up. One of the defining things I had grown accustomed to during my years with him, was his constant air of cold aloofness, no matter the situation. Now, as he stood at the end of the bed his eyes closed, I noticed his almost pained expression like he was fighting an internal battle, coupled with a strange static energy that seemed to be emanating off of him. I felt my senses jumped to attention at his unease, preparing for some impending bad news.

Finally, he opened his eyes and I took a sharp intake of breath. They were no longer the familiar icy calm, they were burning. The silence stretched out between us, I shifted uncomfortably on the bedspread. I didn't like the expression 47 was wearing, he looked like a man roasting alive from the inside.

"I was made without emotions. No fear, no compassion, nothing to limit my abilities or create disobedience." I listened. Sensing that he was relieving something weighty from his shoulders. As if on cue the assassin sagged slightly, his head bowing. "But I was scared back there." His voice was laden with bitterness as he spoke. As if he was ashamed.

I felt my eyebrows pull together as I looked at the tortured man. It was easy to forget his past sometimes, but his reaction to merely 'feeling' was very telling of his brutal life so far. "Why? Those guys were nothing special. You dealt with them easily." Despite my confusion I understood the level of trust he had placed in me by simply confessing to such normal emotions. I had been afraid for my life a number of times in the brothel; hell, in the past seven years I had been more shit scared than anything else. I tried to give him a comforting smile, but he shook his head at me, his eyes glowing as they bored into me.

"You misunderstand me. I wasn't scared for myself…I was scared for you." My mouth dropped open at his unexpected declaration. His brow had pulled up, making his expression mournful as he regarded me. I had never seen such an expressive emotion on his face before; it frightened me a little. I didn't have a response, but 47 didn't seem to need one as he continued on in a steady, if not uncertain voice. "When the signal cut out I moved to a closer position. Then I heard the gunshot." At this his hands tightened into fists at his side, his tone hardening. "I saw them dragging a body out of the building. Assuming the worst I lost control."

"That was Birdie." I offered lamely, my voice a strained whisper as my throat constricted in shock. 47's face suddenly morphed into an expression of terrifying fury.

"I gave you my word I would come to your aid if anything happened. I believed I had failed. I channelled my newfound emotions into wiping out the vermin in that place. Then you burst through that door." My brain had gone into overdrive; where was this all coming from. Even after his outburst before the Estrada mission I had assumed he would go back to acting indifferent around me. Now he was stood in front of me looking like someone was stabbing him hard in the chest as he confessed to actually worrying about me. I blinked stupidly at him, my mouth opening and closing as I tried to think of what to say.

"You didn't look…I mean…you didn't say anything when you saw me." I mentally punched myself. _What the fuck was that woman?_ _The man you have foolishly been obsessing over since you met, tells you he was driven mad by the mere thought of you being shot and you say that._

47 relaxed his fists and I could already see the walls starting to come back down. Damn it, I definitely hadn't said the right thing. "I'm sorry you thought I was angry at you; I was angry at myself. You did excellently. I let you down, it won't happen again."

His was returning to the cool monotone I was so regretfully used to. Panic started to grip me; it was such a break through. He had admitted to having emotions, I wasn't about to let this conversation end like it always did. With him closing off to me even more. I dumped the new laptop to one side and scrambled to get off the bed. Stumbling upright a few feet from the assassin I noticed with some satisfaction the new look of surprise on his face.

"Enough." I snapped. My voice wavering with the panic of losing him once again. 47 paused, the walls halted in their descent by my sudden dramatic reaction. "Enough of this." I continued, ignoring the heat flooding to my cheeks as I craned my neck to keep my eyes fixed on his. "I'm fine okay, we made it out. We've both fucked up in this relationship…or partnership…or whatever this thing between us is. But we're human, that's what we do. We make mistakes." My words came out louder than I intended but he only looked more surprised.

"I am not-" He began, but I wasn't having any of it.

"Bullshit. I refuse to accept your crappy opinion on what you really are. You're not a monster, you're not a robot, you're a human okay. And I'm damned if I'm going to let you forget it." My hands had curled into fists, mirroring his earlier stance, and I could feel them shaking with apprehension. We had danced this dance a thousand times but this time felt different.

"I am aware you aren't going to. Although I doubt the proof in your words."

"You came for me in Mexico like you said you would. You took Seren to a safe place after the farm was destroyed. You forgave me after I left you without an explanation. You _definitely_ made a mistake when you chose me to replace Diana, yeah, I'd say my proof is pretty airtight." I felt my mouth pull up into a sad smile. Saying it like that he had done a lot for me in the past few weeks that spoke louder than any words. I was such a massive fool.

He looked at me silently, then his mouth twisted into his heart breaking, half smile. I didn't care if he shot me down again and nothing came of this, I just wanted to keep making him smile like that. The nervousness was turning my stomach into a hundred wriggling snakes.

"Maybe you're right. I don't know what to make of all these feelings, but I am certain about one thing. I don't want to lose you again." The snakes were doing a polka in my gut.

"I don't want to lose you either." I croaked lamely, my mouth turning into a desert. "You infuriate the hell out of me but…" I ran out of nerve right at the end. 47 took a tentative step towards me, his eyes flashing fire.

"It hurts when you're not with me." He finished my sentence in a low gruff voice. I tried to swallow as the enormity of his words crashed down on me, but my constricting throat proved an obstacle. The air between suddenly felt charged, as if someone had turned on a live wire. This conversation had certainly taken an unexpected turn.

"Yeah, something like that." I answered with a small nod. 47 took another step towards me so we were only inches apart. I could feel the heat radiating off of his body, I could see the muscles of his chest outlined underneath his white dress shirt. My body instantly reacted to his proximity; my heart breaking into a brisk canter, my flesh prickling into goose bumps. I had to lean my head back to connect with his eyes and instantly regretted doing so, as the look he was giving me was something I never thought I would see from the man stood in front of me.

He regarded me for a moment, letting the atmosphere grow between us, until it was something malleable. "I want to try something. If you don't object?" His voice was like liquid silver. A shiver ran through me involuntarily at his vague request.

"What?" I squeaked in the most unattractive way possible. I was unsure what was about to happen but my body seemed to have decided for me. The feeling was leaking out of my limbs at an alarming rate as 47 lifted one hand towards my face. He gently laid his palm against my cheek, his skin barely touching me but still sending a jolt of electricity to my brain.

"Just don't move." He sounded nervous and I obeyed, stilling myself as best I could under the circumstances. He slid the hand hovering by my cheek around to grip the back of my neck gently. With excruciating slowness, he brought his face towards mine, all the while his eyes burning into mine, seeking confirmation for what he was doing. My senses were jumping now, I could feel everything; his warm hand on my neck, his breath brushing against my nose as he paused briefly. I was trying desperately not to hyperventilate as he finally closed the minute gap between us, his lips pressing feather light against mine.

Fire flashed through my veins. The place where his mouth touched mine felt like a furnace. The kiss was tentative and unsure at first, then his breath hitched and his hand pulled me tighter against him. His mouth began to move slowly against mine and I had to fight hard to obey his request of staying still. My limbs were jumping with energy and all I wanted was to latch my hands around his neck and never let go. The sensation of him was too much for my mind to take. This was really happening, as impossible as I thought it would be. It was surprisingly tender but there was an underlying hunger that made my legs quiver dramatically.

He pulled away, too soon for my liking but I wasn't about to push him further than he was willing to go. What we had just done was an Olympic long jump in my opinion. He ran his still burning eyes over my face, which was only a few inches away. His breath was coming in uneven gasps, and a swell of pride bubbled up in my somersaulting stomach at the thought I had done that to him.

"I've never done that before." He murmured. His voice distant.

"Well…it was very good for a first time." I offered back, my voice breaking. He drew back to his full height, regarding me with an uncharacteristically soft expression. Instantly I missed his proximity, the space between us growing cold. I blinked trying to gain some logic to my thoughts; they were a swirling mess of emotions and sensations at the moment. The feel of lips on mine an echo I couldn't shake.

47 took a measured step back, giving us both room to breathe after the charged atmosphere. "Thank you." He responded, his tone unsure. He almost looked awkward as he stood there staring at me. I gave him an affectionate smile, my cheeks hot from all the excitement. At least it was good kind of excitement instead of the life threatening kind for a change.

His mouth stretched briefly into a rare full smile in return, then he dropped it his expression changing to something that half resembled indifference again. Old habits died hard it would seem, but we could fix that I thought hopefully.

"You'd better get that laptop working." He commented and I suppressed a giddy chuckle at how fast he returned to his business like attitude. I was flying high on the kiss I thought would never happen. I gave him a cheeky salute and clambered back onto the bed, retrieving the half assembled computer. He remained stood, seemingly unsure how to proceed after that monumental break in his persona. Then finally he turned his attention back to his pistol and settled himself back down to complete it.

We worked in silence on our separate tasks. If someone had missed that brief, unbelievable interlude they wouldn't have suspected anything had changed. But I knew better. Something had shifted between us; an admission long overdue and an acceptance that neither of us could fight our natures anymore. It was like the magnets that had been pulling us together for so long had finally connected, and it would take a strength I wasn't sure existed to pull them apart again.


	24. Chapter 23

**A/N: Thanks for all my recent reviews. I am really happy you guys like the story so far. They honestly make my day and keep me writing this mahoosive story for you all. Anyway, you know the drill, read, review and enjoy! :)**

Chapter 23

"God damn it. This is impossible."

I slammed the laptop down on the table a little too harshly, causing 47 to raise a sardonic eyebrow at my outburst. I rubbed a hand over my aching eyes and tried to ignore his judgemental stare.

I had been tracing the elusive messages that Estrada had received for three days now. We had been jumping from motel to motel to avoid any chance of detection from our targets, but in all that time I had barely got a whiff of where the messages were coming from. I knew they were in Iowa; it had taken me roughly two hours to find the encrypted data that Estrada had been receiving, however, whoever was sending the messages knew a thing or two about the internet. They were using a decoy IP which jumped around, never giving me a solid location. All I knew was the signal was originating from this State, but that was as good as saying I knew my needle was in this particular haystack.

Now as the sender slipped through my fingers for the umpteenth time I buried my heads in my hands and let out a frustrated growl. With all the motel hopping and all-nighters I was pulling to find this bastard, my energy levels were not at optimum. I felt the weight of my partner's eyes on me, as I tried to rub some life back into my own.

We hadn't spoken about the events that transpired between us three days ago, but I felt the change in 47's attitude towards me almost instantly. He stood a little closer than he would have done originally, he watched me when he thought I wasn't aware of him doing so and seemed decidedly more jumpy in unknown situations.

The most alarming of these was when we had arrived at the motel we were now in. It was in the middle of nowhere; a pit stop on one of the main roads leading out of Iowa. We had arrived at some ungodly hour; leaving our previous location at an unusual time to throw off anyone who might be watching us. The place looked relatively empty, apart from a small group of cars in one corner of the car park. They were surrounded by their owners, a gang of obviously drunk men, completely harmless I judged. We had begun walking towards the reception when one of them had plucked up the courage to shout something our way. It was unclear and I resolutely ignored them like we usually did, but 47 had inexpiably moved to position himself between me and the group of boisterous men. He didn't look at me or them, or say anything, but the unnecessary protective gesture had registered with me.

I lifted my head from my hands and noticed he was looking at me with an odd expression. Beside from the closer proximity and over protective gestures, I had seen a myriad of different emotions flitting across the assassin's face where before there were none. He appeared to be finding his feet with how human emotions worked, and once or twice I had had to stop myself from laughing aloud at his worried, and often, confused expression at something I did or said. It made me wonder if this was always what he had felt and had kept behind his previously stony mask.

"It isn't impossible. It's just complicated. Nothing is impossible." He offered up to me now, his tone blunt but his eyes conveying a reassuring warmth as he regarded me. I felt my stomach tighten at that look but gave a small huff of annoyance at his flippancy.

"Easy for you to say, you're not having to stare at a computer screen uselessly for hours getting frigging nowhere." His mouth twitched at my put out demeanour. He stood up from where he was perched on the edge of the bed and gestured towards it.

"Here. You look tired. Sleep and I'll wake you in an hour or so." I stared at his insistent expression for a moment, then reluctantly stood up stretching my shoulders as I did.

"Fine. But only an hour. I'm sick of staying in these crappy motels now." I could have sworn I heard a low chuckle coming from the assassin as I collapsed on the now empty double bed and instantly felt the energy leak from my limbs. 47 took my vacant seat at the small desk in the corner of the room and carefully closed my abused laptop.

My eyes were already half closed as he glanced at me over his shoulder, his mouth stretching into a full smile. A warm feeling spread through my stomach at the sight, and I felt myself drifting off hoping I would dream about the kiss we had shared in a motel similar to this one.

* * *

He was true to his word. I let out a disgruntled moan as a heavy hand gently shook my shoulder. Blinking uncertainly, my dream began to fade away and I felt my cheeks heating under the gaze of 47's ice blue eyes that had been looking at me in a very different way moments before.

"Feel better?" He asked. As I sat up and rub my sleep mussed hair.

"A bit." I mumbled, as I automatically began looking for my laptop. 47 stood back from the bed to allow me to get up and walk over to my position at the desk. My gut twisted in apprehension of another frustrating session of trying to pinpoint this slippery son of a bitch. In truth I felt like we were staring down a dead end, but with no other leads this really was our only option.

I could feel the concerned eyes of my partner boring into my back as I booted up the laptop again. I sensed he was getting as restless as me, however he seemed determined to stay in my presence at all times. Before when we had been holed up in a place looking or waiting for something, he had gone off once or twice in the day to check the perimeter or to do target practice. Now he either sat watching me type or cleaned his weapons over and over. I let out a small sigh at the thought, his affection was not unwanted, just overbearing at times.

He shifted in my peripheral now and I knew he was waiting to tell me something. I turned to look at him, my expression expectant. He looked at me uncertainly for a moment. "Diana contacted me while you were sleeping." An unexpected spike of jealousy hit my gut, which was ludicrous as he had expressed as much interest in his former handler as he had with any other woman I had seen him interact with. Still the thought of her contacting him and not me while I was unconscious made me uneasy.

"And what did she say?" I asked, a little too bitterly. 47 blinked at me, his face showing surprise at my obvious animosity.

"She asked how we were doing and I told her we had hit a few…obstacles." I grimaced, not overjoyed that he had shared my incompetence with my former mentor. "She mentioned an old contact of hers that might live nearby. He used to help her track targets that were good at hiding online."

I let my childish side win and scowled at him, the jealous feeling twisting uncomfortably in my gut. "She doesn't think I can do this on my own?" A tiny bit of shame crept into my mind at the way I was handling this sudden intervention from Diana, remembering her kindness at taking in Seren while we embarked on this foolish trail again.

"I doubt that is the case Peregrine. She is just trying to help." 47's cool tone brought me out of my immature tantrum and I nodded, chagrin colouring my cheeks.

"You're right. Sorry. So how nearby is nearby?" I forced a positive note into my voice, 47's brow furrowed slightly at my sudden switch but he didn't comment on it. Watching the emotions flit across his stony face was fascinating. They were still very subtle but for him he might as well have been acting a pantomime with how expressive they were.

"His last known location was about five miles away in the town near here." I digested his words for a moment; the thought of admitting defeat was almost as unpalatable as excepting Diana's help in front of 47, however I couldn't argue I had been failing to get a grip on our target for too long now.

"Fine. When do we go see this guy?" 47's expression was uneasy as he looked at me now, I sensed he was fighting another internal battle.

"It's best if I go alone. Diana said he wouldn't take kindly to us both showing up on his doorstep. It appears he severed ties with the ICA once Cicada started taking it down."

"So why would he help us now?" I asked sceptically.

"It seems he is as keen to see the back of them as we are and being from this state there is a chance he will have heard of any strange activity online." I sighed. This wasn't how I wanted this to pan out, but I was sick of getting nowhere.

"Okay. Go see this guy. I'll stay put and see if I can make progress here." 47 nodded, but his eyes looked pained.

"I'll leave my pistol with you." I blanched at his statement.

"What about you?" His mouth twitched up into his usual half smile and my stomach did an involuntary flip, flop.

"I can survive without my gun for a few hours." He turned away and began to ready himself for his impromptu trip. An uneasy weight settled in my stomach at the thought of us being separated, it was likely we would be okay; we could both handle ourselves after all, there was just a dark shadow I couldn't shake clawing at the back of my mind.

After a few minutes of him preparing in the background as I opened my various programmes ready to begin the hunt once more, I felt his presence behind me. Before I could turn and acknowledge him, his hand appeared next to me as he quietly and carefully placed his silenced pistol beside my laptop. I stared at it blankly for a second, the weight of his gesture not lost on me. Then with worried eyes I spun to face him.

He was looking down at me with a very similar expression, then he put up his familiar mask and moved towards the motel room door. "Should I at least monitor you?" I asked his retreating form in a faint voice, the foreboding building in my head. He paused, his back still facing me as he replied.

"I'll be fine Perry. Just look after yourself while I'm gone." He spoke in his traditional low monotone, and before I would have been mildly offended by his comment and ready to argue that I was more than capable of looking after myself. Now though, I heard the concern disguised underneath his condescending tone and smiled at his inability to look at me as he stepped silently out of the room. The door shut with a soft click and the shadow lurking in the back of my mind darkened. Why did I get the feeling this would be the last time I would see him?

Shaking the paranoia off as best I could I returned my attention back to the task at hand. If I could nail down this bastard before 47 got back from Diana's miracle contact, it would prove to her that I could do this after all. A small voice in my already busy head whispered that maybe I was over reacting slightly to her intervention but I was tired and irritable, and so let the sour emotion fuel my work.

My fingers began to ache as I continued my search through the myriad of code and false trails. I wasn't aware how much time had passed, only how many times I had hit a brick wall with my hunt. The total was currently at five for this sitting. I was becoming tired of the same pattern; tracing an IP linked to encrypted messages, feeling the bubble of hope rise only to have it burst when it just led to a decoy ID. It was after the sixth failed attempt that I sat back with a frustrated growl and rubbed my weary eyes. I could feel the energy sapping from me again, my short nap before not enough to bring me back to full power.

Glancing outside I saw the sun had gone behind a mass of grey clouds, giving the world a dreary, dull look. I stretched my arms above my head, popping my shoulders and felt a quiver off nervousness at 47's continued absence. I resolved to keep going until he returned, so with a fresh determination I started the painful process all over again not hoping to get far. I found the loose thread I had been following to no avail in the encrypted Cicada message again. Low and behold a new IP popped up as the source of the communication. Going through the motions I ran it through the trace route programme I was using and waited for the location to spat out the other end.

I found my attention drifting once more to the window while it worked, watching the flat grey sky with disinterested eyes. My laptop gave an abrupt ping as it signalled it was done with its task. I had to hand it to that old man he certainly knew his computers, even though I wasn't getting very far in my endeavour I was definitely doing it quickly. Just as I was turning back to look at my screen a flash of movement caught my eye out of the window. It was so fast I shouldn't have been able to register it, but years of living with my soft footed, lightning fast daughter had taught me to see the un-seeable.

A stab of adrenaline shot through my system. What was it? It had been too quick to make out, just a blur of colour and movement. All I was sure about was that it had been too small to be 47. Instinctively I rested my hand lightly on the pistol next to me. I was going mad surely.

My laptop let out another obstinate ping, drawing half my attention to it. A location was now firmly fixed on my screen and my heart leapt shockingly in my chest. This wasn't like the other decoys I had been thrown; all the others had been in obviously ridiculous places; the middle of the Pacific Ocean, the amazon rainforest, Chernobyl. This time it was showing a very familiar coordinate on the map. I stared in horror as the red pin danced mockingly on the motel in the middle of Iowa. The motel I was currently staying in.

Without another thought I grabbed 47's pistol and burst out of the chair, knocking it to the floor. I strained my hearing, trying to pick out anything that would indication an impending attack, but there was nothing that my weak ears could make out. I gripped the pistol tightly in both hands and started to back away from the door slowly. Whoever was out there, if they were after me they were going to be sorely disappointed if they were expecting me to be surprised.

I kept reversing until I found myself in the doorway to the bathroom. There was still no sound from outside and I hadn't seen anymore movement since my first scare. Maybe I was getting over excited with all the drama we had encountered in the last few weeks. It didn't explain the IP tracing back to here though, I was convinced it was a taunt. They knew where we were.

A soft knock on the door made my heart vacate my chest and plant itself firmly in my throat. I levelled the pistol at the door and backed further into the bathroom, placing the doorframe between me and the motel room entrance. A few seconds of silence passed then another soft knock echoed through the now empty bedroom.

Doing my best to steady my breathing, I flicked the safety off 47's pistol. It was only now, of all the times, that I was noticing how heavy his gun was. I forced my now aching arms to stay level as I stared at the still closed door. The silence pressed in on me, making my ears whistle.

"Come on you motherfucker. Come and get me." I hissed under my breath. There were no other entry points to the room, similarly there was no other exit. The person on the other side of the door began to test the lock, the metallic rattling setting my teeth on edge. The sound increased before abruptly dropping off. I felt my jaw tighten as I wrapped a careful finger around the trigger. After all we had been through, I wasn't going down without a damn good fight. I'd take as many of them with me as I could. A painful barb twisted in my heart at the thought of it ending here, then my resolve took over. No.

The door flew open with an explosive bang. I narrowed my eyes, straining to see the attackers outlined in the doorway. Increasing the pressure on the trigger I looked down the barrel, aiming the pistol where the head of my assailant should be. But as my brain focused I saw my weapon was pointed at an empty space and my eyes were drawn to the two small figures stood watching me with their unnerving, glassy eyes.

"No. Not you." I let out in a horror filled voice. The changelings walked smoothly into the motel room. One boy and one girl, they both looked about seven and my heart stopped beating completely for a full second. The boy was stood slightly behind the girl, and I gasped in disbelief as her face blurred and changed, until instead of a pair of dull hazel eyes staring at me there were a pair of icy blue ones. "Seren." I choked out as my daughter took another step towards me. The pistol was shaking in my hands as it pointed at her perfect, bronze haired head. I loosened my finger on the trigger, and felt the hot, shameful sting of tears as they rolled down my cheeks.

"No, please." I begged as my nightmare took another step. I couldn't shoot, how could I? Seren smiled sweetly at me, her porcelain skin dimpling. "Please." I sobbed again. The pistol dipping, the nausea at aiming at her too much to bare.

"Don't shot ma." Her lilting voice damn nearly broke my wildly beating heart. I blinked rapidly, trying to clear the tears from my eyes. The vision of my daughter disappeared with each blink until the hazel eyed girl was left standing a few feet from me. Her voice wasn't the soft lilt of my girl, but it was still high and bell like. The voice of a child.

"Don't struggle now." She insisted as she took another step, then another. It was useless. I couldn't shoot. I couldn't kill a child. No matter what it meant for me, or for her, or for him. The barb of pain lanced through me again at the thought of 47.

"I'm sorry." I whispered, dropping his pistol to the floor just as the girl leapt toward me, wrapping her tiny hands around my throat. All I saw was their faces, his and Seren's, as the blackness started to close in and I finally lost consciousness.

* * *

47

It had been a dead end. The contact Diana had told me about either didn't live here anymore or her intel was incorrect. I was starting to think it was the latter as I began the drive back to our motel.

A lot had transpired in the last three days, I had simultaneously silenced the aggravating voices in my head and opened up the doors on a well of emotion I had no idea I possessed still. My time in Satu Mare was hazy at best, but I knew the purpose of one of the many painful experiments had been to remove any trace of human emotion that might have been floating around in me. The Doctor had prided himself in my success, claiming I was the perfect killing machine. Devoid of feeling and compassion but driven to complete my tasks with a heightened zealousness. Now I doubted whether his boasting had been founded in truth.

Since that night three days ago, I had given in fully to the emotions I had been battling for longer than I realised. In all honesty, I wondered if they had always been there and I had merely suppressed them to alleviate the torture he had inflicted on me. Regardless, I was certainly discovering a plethora of feelings I had previously thought impossible; worry, jealously, affection. The last one was especially alien to me. I had been fighting the magnetic pull of that girl since the first few days of meeting her. I had resisted as long as I could and it had nearly driven me mad in the process but finally admitting I no longer had the strength to fight it had come as a shock even to me.

I let my mind drift down its own route as I steered the hire car along the empty road. A small shiver ran through me as the memory of her soft lips touching mine floated to the surface. It had been an interesting experience to say the least, once I had accepted my feelings for Perry were going nowhere the burning drive to touch her had been too much to bare. I had never kissed anyone before so had nothing to draw on, but I was certain kissing her was an experience I would never be able to replicate with anyone else.

My senses had come alive in a way I had never known, all my synapses firing at once as the urge to hold her to me grew. I had only meant to touch my lips briefly to hers, but once we had connected it I felt the strong guttural pull that had always been in the background take a hold of me. Moving my mouth against hers had been as satisfying as sampling a particularly fine vintage of wine, and as exhilarating as completing an impossible contract. I had promised myself not to initiate anything more until our mission was complete, lest I risked getting too distracted. It was no wonder Dr Ort-Meyer had been so keen to eradicate any impulse to engage with the opposite sex.

I shook my head to clear it of the daydream as I turned into the motel we were staying in. A jolt of anticipation at seeing Perry again shot through me. I hadn't liked leaving her, even with her obvious ability to handle a gun now. My alarm at seeing those two neat entry holes in the Mexican gangster's heads was still ingrained in me. I knew she had killed many in the time I had been separated from her, but seeing her proficient handiwork was still something I was not prepared for. It was her dismissive attitude towards it more than the act itself. After her first kill, all those years ago, she had looked like she was about to throw up and scream simultaneously. In the brothel by comparison, she had seemed surprised when I bought the two men whose lives she had claimed up at all. As if it was of no consequence.

I parked the car and headed towards our motel room on the ground floor of the complex. I was mulling over the possibility of Diana being mistaken about her contact's whereabouts and how unlike her that was, when I noticed the door to the motel room was slightly ajar. Instinctively I reached for my pistol, only realising when my hand landed on empty air that I had left it with Peregrine. My blood ran cold as I tried to order my thoughts, forcing some kind of rational thinking in amongst the tornado of emotions now flying around my brain. Maybe she had stepped out and forgotten to shut it, maybe housekeeping was in. But my still ever presented instincts knew the truth. Someone had come here while I was away.

Letting out a low, enraged growl I flung the door open, ready to engage the intruders. What I found was an empty room. The chair by the desk flung on the floor as if someone had leapt from it and a mess of bottles on the floor of the bathroom, definite signs of a struggle. I scanned the room, my eyes narrowed but my heart thumping rather more than usual in my chest. There was no sign of any blood which was comforting, but equally there was no sign of Perry full stop. She was gone.

I moved further into the room, desperately searching for any sign she was okay and simply hiding somewhere. A glint of highly polished silver caught my eye and my attention snapped to the offending object on the floor in front of the bathroom. My erratically beating heart stuttered and came to a brief standstill at the sight of my silenced pistol. I approached it warily as if it were a poised rattlesnake, willing it not to exist. Tentatively I picked it up and examined the weapon. It hadn't been fired, but that didn't mean she hadn't been taken. I doubted highly whether she would have discarded the gun so carelessly otherwise. I placed the gun back in its holster at my side and turned my attention to the rest of the room.

Finally, my eyes came to rest on her laptop, still open on the desk. I could see the screen was still active and there was a box of text in the centre. Hoping she had discovered the whereabouts of our target and thus reveal where she might be, I moved closer to look at it. I recognised the black rectangle as something that usually appeared on the screen when Perry was working. I leaned into it, scanning the lines of small white text, hoping to make sense of it somehow. There were lines and lines of what she called computer language that I only had limited knowledge of. I ground my teeth together in frustration, searching the unfamiliar mishmash of words and symbols for something coherent. I was just starting to lose hope when I caught sight of a small group of words near the bottom of the screen.

 _Greetings ghost_

 _If you want to see your friend alive again, bring the child to these coordinates._

 _If you cross us, we will exact our judgement on your companion._

 _You have three days._

 _42.446277-96.353551_

The ominous message was signed with a small cicada made out of numbers and symbols. I clenched my fists so tightly I was surprised I didn't draw blood. Then in a burst of sudden aggression I slammed one fist down on the small desk, making the laptop leap into the air.

How could I have let myself get in this position, why was I such a weak willed fool? This was what came of having feelings. My heart was beating again at its normal rate, except with every movement a sharp, lancing pain shot through me as if a knife was being driven deep into my ribcage. My mind was racing with what Peregrine was going through right now. Was she even still alive? Cicada didn't have a good track record of being honest. The pain increased to an almost unbearable level as an image of her cold lifeless face flashed through my thoughts.

Letting out a sharp hiss of air I straightened up and took out the phone Perry had given to me to use. The messages I had received yesterday flashed up as I found the number I wanted and dialled quickly. The fiery, rage filled energy that was flooding my system made me pace as I listened to the dialling tone. There was little doubt in my mind what I needed to do. I had only recently got Peregrine back and after the events of the last few days, I was not about to let her die again.

The ringing on the other end of the phone stopped after a few seconds. She answered in her usual clipped manner and before she could finish her greeting I snapped at her in a brisk tone. "Diana, we have a problem."


	25. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

I had driven like a man possessed back to Chicago. Pushing the frustratingly slow hire car past its microchip's limiter. Even after ignoring the speed signs it still took me four hours to reach Diana's mansion. The guards posted on the gate had looked alarmed as I skidded to a halt in front of them, flashing them my deadliest stare as they moved towards the vehicle. With flustered expressions and fighting a stutter one of them had informed their employer of my arrival and the gates had swung open. Now I was stood in her large open plan living area, quivering with pent up rage as I waited for my former handler to materialise.

My head felt like it had a nest of hornets living inside of it. If accepting my feelings for Perry had brought me clarity previously, now it had thrown me into a state of urgency I had never experienced before. I clenched and unclenched my fists as the seconds ticked by, and ground my teeth impatiently. Every wasted minute was another minute she had to endure some unknown horror. I couldn't allow that.

"You made good time I must say." Diana's voice echoed down from the mezzanine balcony above the living head whipped round to locate her and a small tremor of annoyance ran through me as I took in her calm expression.

"I made adequate time." I shot back in a cold voice. She chuckled un-phased by my abrupt mood, her perfectly painted mouth lifting slightly at the corner. I kept my eyes fixed on her as she moved along the balcony and languidly descended the stairs. She had always maintained an air of composure in times of crisis, however through my fog of panic her manner aggravated me. I tried to keep my self-control as she walked towards me, her heels clicking loudly in the deserted room.

Having forewarned her of the predicament I now found myself in, she had made this a private meeting. Even her most trusted staff were a risk to me at the moment. She stopped at a respectful distance and gave me a small, reassuring smile as she clasped her hands neatly in front of her. It always hit me how different her and Perry were when I had been in close proximity with both of them. Our previous visit here had highlighted it even more, with Diana assessing the escalating situation pragmatically and Peregrine letting her emotions and natural intelligence rule her actions. Before this observation would have merely piqued my interest at the unlikely relationship I had forged with two such opposing personalities. But now it sent a dark stab of longing into my abdomen for my unruly, rough-edged companion.

"I looked up the coordinates you gave me. It's a shopping centre located in Sioux Falls, Iowa." I narrowed my eyes; it seemed a bit too public for an exchange. My mind was trying to make sense of Cicada's motives in all this, but the pain and anger at Peregrine's abduction was making it difficult to see clearly.

"Fine. Where is the child?" I snapped at Diana. She raised an eyebrow at my obviously antagonistic tone but didn't rise to it.

"She is somewhere. You don't actually intend to give her to Cicada do you?" I felt my muscles tense in a brief moment of anger at Diana's obstructiveness. She noticed my agitation and raised both eyebrows in a look of surprise. "The 47 I know wouldn't give in so easily to their demands." Suspicion clouded her face then, as something seemed to dawn on her. "What's happened? Why are you so rattled?"

I made an effort to relax my stance; there was one similarity between Diana and Perry, their uncanny ability to see straight through me. "Peregrine is in danger, they threatened to kill her if I didn't comply." Much to my astonishment she let out a snort.

"And she's been in this position before if I recall. That incident in Fallon's mansion that started all this, Italy where you beat up half of the ICA's task force to save her. Both times you ran through all the options before taking the best route to get to her. So why rush in now and give up the thing she's been fighting for?" Her comment was like a sharp slap in the face. I blinked slowly at my former handler, remembering all those times she had been right and all those times I wish she hadn't. It was true; I had rescued Perry before, but in the past if things really had turned out to be too risky I was sure I would have walked away. Like Satu Mare. But now…well, now it wasn't just her life on the line. It was mine too.

"The child. Where is she?" I hissed venomously at her in response. Diana shook her head sadly, closing her eyes for an instant.

"I was afraid this would happen when you dragged her back from Wales." The swirling mass of my thoughts stilled for a moment.

"What do you mean?" My voice was low and threatening but the woman in front of me didn't flinch. She gave me a sad, knowing smile.

"You've always been loyal 47. I should know. And I always wondered what you would be like if you ever developed strong feelings for another. I guess I know now." We stared at each other in silence. Words of denial started to rise out of me, then my jaw tensed and I pushed them back down. There seemed little point in lying anymore, Diana was an observant person who I had known for longer than most. Claiming she was wrong was only an insult to her. She chuckled again, taking my silence as confirmation.

"I thought as much. However, your affection towards Peregrine has blinded you to the ideal option. Giving Seren to Cicada is out of the question, she is far too valuable…to Perry that is. Besides if you did that you'd likely damage whatever relationship you had with her." The truth in her words left a bitter taste in my mouth. If I traded the child for Perry she would never forgive me, but I couldn't walk away or risk getting her killed. A low growl slipped from between my clenched teeth as I felt myself being backed into a corner.

"Is ma back?"

The high voice rang out over the room. I turned to look at where Diana had made her entrance before and saw a pair of familiar blue eyes staring down at me from the balcony above. They narrowed as the child saw me watching, distrust evident in them as she moved back from the edge. "No Seren. She isn't. Go back to your room please." Diana's voice was level, but tinged with an edge of steel as she answered the child, her gaze still fixed firmly on me. There was no response from above, but I was conscious she was still there, observing unseen.

I turned to look at Diana once more, my expression still hard. "I don't have time to argue anymore, give me the child and let me leave." Diana shot me an amused expression.

"This is an argument? Well I never would have guessed it. I thought we were having a healthy discussion about an ongoing mission." I didn't answer, but felt my jaw tighten again in annoyance at her flippant attitude to all this. Morgan was in danger; why couldn't she see that?

"By the way, why exactly did you leave her alone in that motel? I would have thought with your recently discovered 'feelings' and my warning when you left here last time, that you wouldn't have let her out of your sight." This time my hands balled into tight fists as her accusation hit me.

"You told me your contact wouldn't appreciate both of us showing up at his doorstep. I took your advice and went alone, but not without arming her I assure you." Diana's aloof expression suddenly shifted into one of confusion, and I felt a heavy weight drop into my stomach like a corpse sinking in a river.

"What contact? What are you talking about?" Now there was a hint of fear in her tone and the weight pressed down further as a cold, unwelcome realisation sank in.

"You didn't send them…the messages telling us to go to Arthur." She shook her head slowly, her eyes widening enough to tell me I was right.

"No. Arthur hasn't been on my radar for four years at least. He fled the country long ago. Whoever sent you those messages, it wasn't me." The weight settled deep in my gut, making me feel nauseous with anger. I had been tricked like some fledgling agent. Lured away by an obvious ploy and separated from my handler on purpose. Now that I was looking at the events of the last few hours clearly in the cold harsh light of reality, I could see how stupid I had been. It was my fault she was gone. If I hadn't been blinded by these ridiculous emotions I would have seen it, surely.

"Give me the girl. Now." I channelled my anger at my own error into my voice. A deadly growl escaping me as I started to lose control of myself. Diana took a small step back. It wasn't a dramatic action, but I knew her well enough to read the alarm in her features.

"It's not a good idea 47. Please listen." But I was done listening. I had stood here long enough and the tremor in Diana's voice only bolstered my resolve. I marched past my former handler and headed towards the stairs. I could sense the child's attention on me as I took them two at a time and headed to where I had seen her last. Just as I had predicted she was still there, flattened against the wall of the mezzanine balcony. She regarded me warily, her thin pale arms pressed against the rough slate behind her.

"Do you want to see your mother again?" I asked in a low voice. The anger I was feeling still managing to leak through slightly. She didn't speak, her wide blue eyes burrowing into my head. Then she nodded, her brown hair which was loose around her ears swaying with the movement. I felt a pang of longing at the sight of it, remembering how it would catch the light when Morgan was next to a window. Holding out a hand, I barked gruffly at her.

"Come then."

The child shrank back for an instant. She looked so young in the clothes Diana had dressed her in; a grey pleated skirt and pale pink polo shirt. Worlds away from the practical, jeans and t-shirt she had worn when I first met her. The differences between the two women responsible hit me again and I swallowed down the guilt as she cautiously moved forward and placed her tiny hand in mine.

"You'll take me to ma?" She asked in a firm voice. I nodded, completing the deception and towed the child after me as I made my way back down the stairs. Diana was waiting at the bottom, her arms folded, her expression stern.

"You are being foolish 47. It doesn't suit you." I tried to ignore her imperious look as I dragged the child somewhat forcefully towards the door. She didn't struggle despite my less than gentle handling of her and I shot a quick look down to gauge why. She was staring back at Diana, a fearful look in her eyes. My conscious stabbed harshly at me again, the guilt building slowly. Damn these infernal emotions.

I flung the door open and marched down the stone steps towards my old Audi that Diana had retrieved for me. My feet crunched in a steady rhythm over the gravel drive, the child's a quicker, more uneven beat next to mine. I loosened my grip a little to make it easier for her to walk and glanced down to see her staring at her surroundings. Her expression still etched with fear as she looked around her.

"This isn't what Peregrine would have wanted." Diana's voice rang out behind me as she watched my progress from her doorway. I was aware we had a small audience out here, her numerous security guards watching from the gardens around us. I skidded to a halt next to the car, the child bouncing nimbly on the balls of her feet so as to avoid crashing into my thigh. I turned to face her, careful to keep my expression neutral. Which was easier said than done nowadays.

"She isn't here to say what she wants, and if I don't do this she isn't going to be around at all. These people are dangerous Diana, they've practically destroyed everything you've built here. All you have left is this mansion and a few foot soldiers. I agreed to end this and promised Morgan I'd make her safe and I intend to." Diana didn't respond, her eyes simply widening at my choice to use my handler's proper name. Neither did she make to move after me as I opened the passenger door and propelled the child into the car. She sat there meekly, looking up at me through the glass as I shut the door after her.

Moving round to the other side I opened the other door, flicking a last look at my old partner. The distance between us since Morgan's return seemed to have grown further in such a short time. The woman who I had trusted above all others let out a heavy sigh before calling after me.

"That isn't all you promised, remember that 47. I hope you know what you're doing." We stared at each other across the expansive drive. An unspoken warning passing from Diana to me. Deep down I knew I was being rash, but I had grown tired of the people around me telling me who I was and what to do. Ort-Meyer, Soders, Travis, even Diana; they had all dictated how I saw myself. The only exception was Morgan. She had given me permission to be human, make mistakes, be flawed, instead of only expecting perfection and obedience. And that was worth fighting for.

Without another word, I slid into the Audi and started the engine. Glancing at the child next to me I noticed all traces of fear were gone from her face. She was staring at me quizzically. "Put your seat belt on." I commanded, as I turned the car and watched the red headed figure of Diana recede in the rear view mirror.

* * *

The girl shifted uneasily in her seat drawing my attention away from the road. She hadn't moved or spoken since leaving Chicago about three hours ago, so even though the movement was subtle it was unexpected. It had unnerved me to begin with how still she could be for a child her age, then I had remembered who she was and a cold shiver ran up my spine.

Victoria had been the only young person I had interacted with for an extended period for time, and she was a world away from the creation sat next to me now. I was unsure whether it was Morgan's uncanny ability to ignore the less ideal aspects of a person rubbing off on me, but I had to keep reminding myself that she wasn't a normal six year old, she was literally a carbon copy of me. A science experiment.

It was odd how adverse I was to this child compared to Victoria. She had been the first person I had sympathised with, having been brought up in the same environment I had. I had formed the nearest thing to a bond with that girl before Morgan had come crashing into existence and broke all the rules. But I felt nothing but mind numbing distain for the thing sat next to me. Which made no sense, she was one half of me after all; wasn't the most basic human instinct to protect one's own DNA? More to the point the other half was a person I cared deeply for, a person I was going out of my way to get out of harm. Regardless of these undeniable facts, all I felt when I looked at the child was a cold emptiness and mild annoyance as she stared back with identical eyes.

"I need to go." She said abruptly, her expression blank. I wondered briefly if this was how I had looked to everyone before letting my emotions rule me. A carefully placed mask, the cool gaze of those almost iridescent blue eyes. It made me marvel at how Morgan had ever developed feelings for me in the first place.

"Hold it." I shot back, a sneer of disgust twisting my mouth. The girl's brow furrowed for an instant.

"I can't." She said in a matter of fact tone that didn't belong coming out of a six year old's mouth. I let out a laboured sigh and flicked my eyes back to the road.

"Fine." I muttered, as I scanned the signs passing by for any hint of a motel or rest stop. We hit a small town shortly after, somewhere called Springdale, and I pulled into a convenience store inwardly hoping they had bathrooms. The absurdity of the situation was not lost on me as I opened the passenger door for the child to hop out. I watched in mild amusement as she brushed her hands down the front of her pleated skirt, trying to flatten it, then gave it a harsh tug, her face morphing into one of utter distain at the garment. The amusement quickly switched to the painful stabbing I had felt ever since Morgan had vanished again. The familiarity of the child's attitude towards the skirt a mirror image of her guardian's.

The pain was starting to spread and I could feel the beginnings of a alarmingly familiar headache forming in the back of my mind. Following the child like a shadow into the store I flicked a habitual look at the alcohol on display. The shock of the old gesture jolted me out of my dejected state and I forced myself to focus on the cashier stood behind the counter.

The elderly woman, who likely owned the store, smiled kindly at me as I approached. Her eyes flashed down to my heels where I knew the girl was now stood, then back up to my face, her smile widening further.

"How can I help you, sir?" She asked in a soft voice.

"Do you have a restroom?" I replied in a quiet monotone, eager to be done with this and back on the road. The woman glanced at the girl again, her eyes twinkling.

"Sure we do. It's in the back sweetie, want me to show you?"

"No thank you." I had to stop myself from flinching at the child's happy, juvenile tone. It was unlike anything I had heard her use before. True, her voice was naturally high in tone for a person of her age but it had always had a weighted quality to it, as if it held an intelligence far beyond her years. This voice was saccharine sweet, more fitting for a far younger girl than her. The woman didn't seem to notice my surprise, her cheeks dimpling with the broadness of her smile now. She looked as if she was staring at her own grandchild, much less a stranger she had never laid eyes on before.

"Oh aren't you just the cutest. Go ahead then sweetie." She gestured towards the back of the store to her left. I reluctantly looked down at the child.

"I'll come. To help." I said, haltingly. Not sure how to interact with her in front of the woman. The child shook her head, a charming smile stretching across her face. Her cheeks dimpling and a warm, childish glow entering her previously mature eyes.

"I'll be fine. I can do it all on my own." I felt my brow furrow at the condescending way in which she said it, although to the woman watching it would sound like a young child taking pride in her actions. Then my heart stopped briefly as she flashed me a cheeky grin, so achingly similar to Morgan's it was almost like looking at her even with the pale skin and blue eyes. She skipped off in the direction the woman had indicated, leaving me staring after her, the blood draining from my face.

I collected myself before turning back to the woman, she was giving me an appreciative look. "Your daughter is adorable, and so polite. You must be a very proud Dad?" I was sure the alarm inside me didn't reflect on my face, although it was a struggle. I arranged my features into an approximation of a smile, and tried to keep the horror out of my tone as I replied.

"Thank you. She takes after her mother." The words slipped out before I could process what I had said. The woman simply raised an eyebrow at my comment, her face holding back a laugh.

"Well, she gets her looks from you. That's for sure." She ran her eyes up and down the length of me, her cheeks colouring a little more as she ended back on my face. "So are you in town long? I haven't seen you here before."

"We're just passing through. Visiting family near Sioux City." I found adding an element of truth to a lie always made the deception sit easier with the recipient. Humans were irritatingly good at spotting false hoods, no matter how proficient the actor.

"My that's a trek. You stopping here overnight?" I was just forming another convincing lie for the woman before a small, voice piped up somewhere near my waist.

"I'm getting tired now, and hungry. Can we stop?" I flashed an icy stare down to the child who was looking up at me, her eyes wide and innocent.

"It's probably for the best. There's a hotel across the street. My daughter runs it, I'd be happy to help you get a room." I glanced out of the glass front of the store, desperate to be out of this situation. The sun was already beginning to sink below the horizon and I felt a sinking sense of resignation. I could keep driving through the night, easily and reach the coordinates by dawn. But going into that scenario with no rest and no plan was a step too far, even for my illogical state.

"That would be helpful, thank you." I replied through gritted teeth to the well-meaning woman. She smiled and picked up a phone behind the counter. I looked down at the child next to me again and a sudden wave of outrage welled up inside of me as I saw the glint of triumph in her eyes.

* * *

"Don't touch anything." I ordered, laying my pistol on the sideboard carefully and gathering my cleaning tools. The child watched me with round eyes from her single bed, her bare legs folded underneath her.

She hadn't said a word to me after the encounter with the store owner, and had merely smiled shyly at the hotel staff when they showed us to a room. She had however watched me intently as I checked the room, making a note of all the best escape routes and possible vantage points from outside. I didn't like the way she seemed to be absorbing everything I did, her neutral expression belaying nothing of what was going on in her head. Not wanting to interact with her more than I had to, I turned away from the eerie child and set about cleaning my gun. Deliberately blocking her view of the weapon as I settled into the comfortingly familiar task.

Keeping my hands busy was the only thing I could think of to dissipate some of the nervous energy building inside of me. As much as having the night to think things over was logical, my unruly emotions were arguing vehemently against it. If this was how normal people lived their lives, no wonder they got little done, I thought bitterly as I began to disassemble my pistol. My brain switched easily to autopilot as I continued, and I could feel my pulse dropping with every moment. Despite this, images of Morgan in immense pain or pale and lifeless still flashed through my mind's eye. With each horrific thought a fresh wave of pain swept through my already agonised chest.

Once my task was complete, I sat quietly, steadying my breathing and forcing the animal part of my brain to relinquish control. The more I drove the disturbing images of Morgan away, the clearer I could think. I was running through the likely scenarios I would encounter in the mall tomorrow when a slight movement by my elbow jolted me out of my thoughts. I whipped my head down to look at what had disturbed me and felt a momentary stab of surprise as I looked down at the child stood silently by me.

"Are you going to need a gun to get to ma?" The brief feeling of shock was instantaneously brushed aside by an immense sense of annoyance.

"Go back to your bed." I snapped at the girl as she stared at my now gleaming silenced pistol resting on the table in front of me. She slowly turned her head to look up at me, her face blank but her eyes burning with that razor sharp intelligence I knew so well.

"I'm not touching anything." She replied rationally, and I ground my teeth together in frustration. My carefully fought back calm beginning to erode again.

"Do as you're told." The child shot me what I could only describe as a sarcastic look at my unoriginal response to her. It did nothing for my fragile mood. She assessed me for a moment longer before shrugging in a very Morgan way and hopping back on her bed nimbly. I frowned at her as she watched me from the more tolerable distance of her bed.

"Is it dangerous, where she is?" I marvelled again at the difference between the childish girl from earlier in the convenience store to now. There was a maturity in the way she spoke that I wasn't expecting, and I wondered how I hadn't picked up on it on the farm before. I decided to choose my words carefully, no need alarming the child unnecessarily; it would only cause problems for me.

"I like to be cautious. Your mother is probably fine." She cocked her head to the side, her eyes narrowing. They bored into me, sharp points of steel trying to read my thoughts. In an instant she switched, her head straightening, her eyes becoming wide and innocent again. She shot me a shy smile and began to worm her way under the covers.

"Okay. The sooner I sleep; the sooner I see her again right?" I blinked in bemusement as the child disappeared under the bed covers, turning so her back was to me. I didn't know how to read her at all, and that scared me greatly. Due to her fairly normal upbringing it was hard to tell how much awareness she had for her true origins. I wondered if like Victoria she had an untapped well of programmed abilities that would prove an issue later. She felt like a bomb that could go off at any minute. And the surreal feeling of looking into a face that was not my own but similar in so many ways was starting to grate on me.

I intended to keep her at arm's length, all I had to do was use her to get to Cicada and Morgan and then I could forget about her. I watched her small, slow breathing form, unsure whether she was actually asleep, and thought that moment couldn't come soon enough.


	26. Chapter 25

**A/N: Hello everyone, massive apologies for the long delay on this chapter, things have got pretty hectic IRL. We are not far from the end and I am determined to finish, so just stick with me. As always read, review and enjoy! :)**

Chapter 25

"Hold still now my boy. Struggling will only increase the pain."

I felt the needle slid under my skin somewhere near my ear, then the burning, maddening agony that signalled the serum entering my bloodstream. The tight leather straps pulled against my wrists as I strained against them. I could feel my chest expanding and the air rushing out of my open mouth but the sound of my scream was distant and detached from me. The pain was all I could think about.

"There. All done, that wasn't so bad was it?" The soft tone of Dr Ort-Meyer's voice was like a soothing balm amid all the fire swirling through my body. Still, an overwhelming feeling of nausea gripped my stomach as the familiar shadow of the Doctor loomed into my limited vision. I couldn't see the room I was in, or much of anything for that matter. The pain and disorientation of waking up in this situation blurred the edges of my sight. What little I did see was masked by a blinding white light that suddenly shone into my face, the only reprieve being the figure or my tormentor stood in the centre of the halo.

I squinted up at him, only realising then that my head was restrained by more tight leather straps. His features swam in and out of focus, but I observed enough to see his head shake from side to side in a small gesture of dismay.

"I really didn't want to have to do this to you again. But you disappoint me my son." I tried to make sense of my creator's words, but it was like trying to move through treacle. I blinked dumbly up at him as his face slowly moved into view, outlined by the harsh light behind him. He was wearing a dissatisfied expression as he continued in a saddened voice. "I had hoped the first round would have severed the connection with your emotional centres, but alas, I find you expressing 'feelings' for something other than yourself."

I frowned up at the man in front of me, unable to comprehend the meaning in his words. _Feelings, emotions,_ what was he talking about? I had never possessed those things. I was untainted. A blank slate. A perfect predator.

"Good, good. You're recovering well, maybe we can proceed with the test sooner than expected." I felt my muscles tense automatically at the mention of a test. I was used to them now; every day was an endless series of tests and medical procedures. The only thing that broke up the painful monotony was being released to complete 'assignments'. I found killing was a cathartic exercise for me, the only time anything made sense in my perplexing existence. It was the only thing I lived for.

Suddenly the bright light disappeared and I was plunged into a brief moment of darkness as my eyes struggled to adjust. I wanted to turn my head and assess my surroundings, every instinct I had wanted to free myself from the restraints but I knew better than to cause a problem here. From my limited view I could see I was in one of the assessment rooms in the institute. It was a perfect square with one door in and out. I was positioned so I was facing said doorway, my head tilted slightly back so looking at it was difficult.

My eyes were well adjusted now and I looked on with vague curiosity as the door opened and a limp figure was dragged in by two guards. It was a woman which surprised me initially. Members of the opposite sex were all but non-existent in the institute. All my brothers were obviously male and the staff and doctors were also exclusively male, the only woman I had encountered previously was a nurse that had been allowed to treat me in my younger years. This woman didn't look like a nurse. She looked like a fugitive, or a prostitute. She was stripped to her underwear and was obviously in a bad state.

The guards dumped her unceremoniously on the hard floor in front of me. One of them bent and grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking on it roughly to force her head up. The light that had been blinding me previously was now trained on her, throwing ugly shadows across her dramatically beaten face. I lazily scanned her, taking in her injuries one by one. A broken jaw, lacerations on the face and neck, bruising from asphyxiation, several cut wounds along her exposed arms, a broken rib or two; telling from her laboured breathing and slight wheeze, a broken femur and mild internal bleeding marked by the slowly blooming red patch beneath the skin on her stomach.

"What do you think 47? Any stirrings? Any feelings of disgust at what we have done to your friend here?" I finished my assessment of the strange woman and flicked a confused glance towards my creator. He stood to one side, his gaze trained eagerly on me, taking notes.

"I don't know this person." I answered in a thick voice. The screaming from earlier had done more damage than I thought.

"You don't? Why that is excellent. But just for the sake of science why don't you look a little harder, see if my serum really did do the job this time." The Doctor's voice was as smooth as oil as he replied, a joyous grin breaking across his face. Perplexed, I returned my attention to the woman, unsure what the purpose of this bizarre test was.

As soon as I looked at her the guard not holding her head up delivered a vicious kick to her chest. There was the familiar sound of breaking bones as his foot connected and the woman let out a sharp grunt before coughing up a slimy pool of blood. I felt my lip curl in mild disgust, unsure what it was I was meant to be 'feeling'. All I could think about was how the bones would have felt breaking beneath _my_ foot and how I would proceed to end this woman's misery swiftly. A broken neck seemed like the logical choice.

Just then the woman let out a muted cry and strained against the guard's grip as she caught sight of me in the chair. "47? Is that you?"

Her voice was British, of that much I was certain, but there was a strange lilt to her accent I couldn't place. I was sure I hadn't heard it before but there was a familiarity to it that tugged on the back spaces of my mind. I looked at her face in detail now, the long matted brown hair that was being held taunt in the guard's closed fist. Her somewhat rounded face gave her a friendly, open appearance. Blood trickled slowly from her mouth, her lips framed by deep lines showing she tended to smile a lot. I scanned her features and found my gaze being dragged to her eyes. The most striking part of her largely nondescript face. They were wide and staring as she looked at me. A deep, velvety brown; fairly common in a lot of people however there was something in them that sent a harsh stabbing pain through my chest.

I tried to recoil from the blow but had nowhere to retreat to. Ort-Meyer shifted next to me as he noticed my flinch, a displeased look crossing his face. "So you do remember her. Tell me what's her name?" His voice had lost all its soothing qualities, replaced by cold steel. I felt something stir in the back of my mind as I registered his displeasure at me. But those eyes, I couldn't look away. It was as if the woman was staring straight through me, reading my thoughts. I opened and closed my mouth as I tried to answer my creator. He suddenly moved forward and grabbed my arm painfully, brandishing his syringe once more. "Her name 47?"

The eyes I was locked onto began to glisten as tears formed. That look she was giving me, what was it? The pain stabbed again at my chest, coupled with the discomfort of the Doctor's grip. The guard who had kicked her moved forward again and delivered another blow to her abdomen. She let out a harsh cry and the pain in my chest doubled instantaneously. She didn't look away from me and abruptly a word popped into my head. No, not a word, a feeling. Desperation. She was desperate.

"47 please, don't let them do this. Save her." I frowned, pushing through the fog of confusion in my head. Why was it so slow?

"Another round should do it. Kill these ridiculous emotions you have." Ort-Meyer growled out of my vision. I felt the pin-prick of the needle at my neck. Save her? Who? A name began to surface from the depths of my memory. I tried to grasp at it, eager to end this odd test I was in. It began with an M sound. What was it?

The guard kicked at her stomach again and much to my alarm I felt the impact hit me as well. I let out a huff of surprise as my body tried to double over in pain. The tears began to spill from her brown eyes, one ran down her bruised cheek. I wished I could touch the trail it left on her skin. The thought was like a lightning bolt.

"Morgan." I spat out. My voice not my own. It was filled with sadness, anger and desperation. She smiled at me, the gesture making my gut twist.

"Morgan? Is that it? Well, we'll soon wipe that name from your mind." The Doctor's voice sounded faraway. Another time. All I could see was Morgan's battered and broken body, the way the guard held her roughly. The need for me to break that hand and the foot that was daring to touch her. I felt helpless and frustrated at my inability to protect her, although she didn't seem to mind the two men assaulting her now. She was still stubbornly pleading with me.

"Save her, for me. She's all that matters." I tried to make sense of her words, then the glint of a blade caught my eye and with a wave of nauseating fear I watched as the guard drove it deep into Morgan's stomach. She choked, her eyes never leaving mine. I struggled against my bonds, but I had no power here.

"No, no, no. Morgan, don't do this please, don't go." The blood was no longer a trickle, it was a river running from her mouth. The guard twisted the blade cruelly as she convulsed, her life leaking from her over his hand. "Get off her. I'll kill you!" I shouted in an uncontrollable rage; but for once in my life those words were hollow and useless as the light slowly faded from her beautiful, brown eyes.

* * *

My scream jolted me awake and I sat bolt upright, a cold, clammy sheen of sweat covering my chest. It took me a minute to steady my heart rate, that dream had been so real. I had to stop myself from looking around the room for Morgan's lifeless corpse. I let out a heavy sigh and attempted to get up but found my path blocked by a small figure standing by the side of my bed.

"You had a bad dream." The child stated simply, her blue eyes unwavering as she stared at me. I didn't respond, rubbing a hand over my face to clear the remnants of the nightmare. A feeling of unease settled over me at the thought of her standing there watching me sleep, her bright eyes glowing in the darkness. I couldn't shake the image of Morgan's eyes though, glassy and dead, from my mind and clenched my jaw tightly as I dropped my head into my hands. "You were shouting and moving a lot in your sleep."

I continued to ignore her, hoping if I didn't speak or look at her she might go away. I could feel the shame rising at my weakness; dreaming was a side effect of emotions, they disturbed the sleep cycle and so made me sloppy. I let out another growling sigh as the image of Morgan bleeding out refused to stop haunting me. The child shuffled next to me, the unease radiating from her evident without looking.

"I have them too." Her voice was small and nervous and I couldn't help looking up at the child. She was staring at me, her eyes filled with concern, for me? I wasn't sure. "Ma said I would scream the house down until she came running. I liked it when she hugged me after."

"What were they about?" The question leapt out of me before I could register it. I was loathed to interact with the child too much seeing as I was sending her off to the mercy of Cicada, but curiosity got the better of me. She frowned for a moment, trying to remember.

"I don't know really. I was in a place I hadn't been before. A large white room. There were men there, with masks on. They would come towards me with needles. I remember it hurting." I felt the stirrings of something resembling pity deep in my stomach. The ghost of Victoria rose unbidden in my memory. I had treated her with the same reluctant distain as I treated the child now, until that was she had told me about the Doctors Diana had rescued her from. I pushed the thought down quickly; forming the same kind of relationship with this child was ill advised, especially when it was a question of her or Morgan. But was it?

Before I could get a handle on this new train of thought the girl shrugged and began to turn away from me. "Ma always said not to worry about them. They were only dreams after all, so don't worry Tobias." She trotted off towards her bed again, giving me room to breathe. Her use of my alias jolted me out of my post nightmare stupor and I rose to my feet fluidly.

"Get ready. We'll head out as soon as your dressed. Time to see your mother." The child flashed me an excited grin and bolted towards the bathroom. I stared after her icily but those guilty rumblings were growing louder as I made a move to get my clothes.

 _Save her._ Morgan's desperate words echoed again in my head and I felt a cold shiver run up my spine.

* * *

1,235,260 square feet. Plenty of space to blend in; plenty of space for something to go wrong.

I scanned the busy parking area, watching the flow of people in and out of the main entrance. Apprehension twisted my gut as the odd decision for Cicada to do the exchange in a busy public place niggled at my mind. I had calmed down significantly since yesterday. Stopping had cleared my head of all the wayward emotions that had been firing off inside of me since discovering Morgan was gone. I was reluctant to admit it but the child had ended up helping me.

She was stood next to me now, staring fascinated at the lines of people curving around us. There was an open innocence to her simple wonder at the seemingly mundane scene that reminded me of my first glimpse of the outside world. She may have escaped being shut in a lab for most of her life but she had still been confined to the isolated scrubland of Morgan's family farm. I suppose a busy American shopping mall would be overwhelming to someone who had only ever seen sheep in such large crowds before.

Summarising there was nothing out of place out here I began to move towards the entrance. The coordinates Cicada had given me didn't enlighten me as to where within the mall they intend to meet, but I was certain they would be watching via the three hundred security cameras dotted around the massive building.

As we passed through the automatic doors I let my instincts take over; the general hubbub of the mall faded out into a low constant hum, and my eyes habitually started the process of scanning my surroundings for any small details that might signal an ambush. The apprehension I had felt before entering only intensified now as I led us further into the mall. I was vaguely aware of the child keeping pace with me somewhere by my right knee, but all my senses were dedicated to assessing this more than disadvantageous position I had been put in.

Normally I would have made myself more inconspicuous, but I had the feeling that method would only work against me in this scenario. My mind drifted to thoughts of Morgan tied up somewhere in the mall, then logic set in and the chances of her being kept here were slim to none. Every fibre of my being sensed a trap however this was the best way to get a lead on where to go next, and Cicada would be sorely disappointed if they thought they were going to get their prize without giving up what belonged to me.

I gave my bargaining chip a cursory glance, she was still following obediently by my side but her attention was fixated on the morning rush around her. She was still wearing the grey skirt and pink polo shirt Diana had given her and I saw one or two women flash her fond looks before giving me appreciative glances. I didn't like the presumed friendliness I received when I was with the child. People, women especially, seemed to take her presence with me as an open invitation to stare at us. I liked to go unnoticed and she was drawing far too much attention.

I quickened my pace as if to relieve myself faster of this suddenly noticed inconvenience, and found myself descending down a flight of stairs leading to a lower level. The mall was made up of three tiers, all curving round in a semicircle. The centre of the mall was an open atrium with shops lining each side, there were few places to hide, which ordinarily would have irked me, but now I considered it an advantage as ambushes in this modern architecture were a lot harder to conceal.

The level I now found myself on was the lower shopping level and the traffic was denser down here. I weaved my way through the crowds easily, watching the side-lines for anything that would signal Cicada's presence. It took me a few moments to remember to check the addition to my party and I was certain I would have lost the girl in the now close knit crowd. To my muted surprise I found her in the same place as before, shadowing my movement through the throng of people almost beat for beat. She didn't look flustered or afraid, simply curious as she looked up at the people moving around her.

Satisfied I wasn't about to lose her I returned my focus to the shops on either side, scanning each front for that one anomaly. They passed by in a blur of inconsequential words until one grabbed my eye causing me to stop abruptly in the flow of people. A man behind me let out an annoyed grunt as he was forced to change direction; I ignored his angry stare as I looked at the front of what appeared to be a shop selling electronic items. It was quieter than the other stores around it and the products it was selling looked fairly high-end; the sort of thing Morgan would have been gushing over. However, it wasn't these things that had grabbed my attention so forcefully, it was the seemingly innocent sign in the bottom corner of the shop front.

 _Get the latest Cicada Co approved tech right here!_

 _You can't escape them, they're everywhere._

I felt my brow furrow as I scanned the two lines of text again and again. I had seen other signs and adverts almost identical to this one plastered in every shop window and roadside billboard for the past five years, it shouldn't have stood out at all. It was the statement made on the second line; _you can't escape them_ , that made my senses twitch and had brought me to standstill in the middle of a busy shopping mall. Even now I could sense people giving me odd looks as they passed, something that should have made my skin crawl in discomfort but my mind was too busy analysing the sign to care.

My muscles tightened in alarm as a small hand gripped mine suddenly, giving it a sharp tug to draw my attention away from the store and down to my right knee. The child was looking up at me, perplexed, as she yanked on my hand. Her bright blue eyes querying my unexpected pause. I frowned down at her unsure what to do now, abruptly feeling a little foolish for wandering round this cavernous mall aimlessly hoping for Cicada to pop up out of nowhere. I had just decided to make my way back out and collect my haphazard thoughts when a thin, reedy voice piped up.

"Sir, can I help you?" I looked away from the child and saw a man, no boy more like, stood in the entrance to the electronics' store. He matched his voice perfectly, scrawny arms poking out of his work issued short sleeve shirt, and nervous watery eyes regarding me warily from a pimple ridden face. I blinked at him slowly, my mouth opening to assure him I was well and needed no assistance when he spoke up again in a wavering voice. "You've been staring at that sign for a while, maybe we have what you're looking for in here."

I shut my mouth with a snap. The boy looked terrified; I could have put it down to him not being especially comfortable with talking to strangers, his appearance would suggest this was likely. But there was a stink of something on him, even from this distance I could smell it, the familiar tang of someone fearing for their life. Something was definitely wrong.

Feeling a growing sense of foreboding I moved towards him, sidestepping artfully through the still flowing crowd. The boy swallowed noisily as I came to a stop in front of him, towering over his lithe frame. "Maybe you can." I said in a low voice, watching with keen interest as the boy flinched. His eyes briefly flicked down to the girl who was still pinned to my side, a flash of recognition lighting them up before he snapped them back to my face. It was all I needed to confirm my suspicions, this was the person Cicada had sent to meet me.

Annoyance swept through me at the sight of this pathetic specimen quivering in his shoes at just my mere presence. Did Cicada think this was a game? Threatening me and taking my partner only to present this prepubescent boy as their spokesman. I felt the anger I had forcibly suppressed begin to float to the surface again, I could snap every bone in his body without breaking a sweat and get the location of Morgan without having to pander to Cicada's needs anymore. Then an icy finger of reasoning slipped into my emotion filled planning. Cicada had done this to me before, presenting an apparently simple solution for there to be a nasty catch. Drawing on my long, drawn out experience with them, nothing was ever as it seemed.

I relaxed my muscles and stared passively at the still terrified boy. He swallowed again, his pronounced Adam's apple bobbing comically in his throat. "Follow me sir." He squeaked as he reluctantly turned his back on me and led me into the eerily quiet store.

Looking at it from the inside I could instantly tell something was off, the only other people present with us were three other employees. There was absolutely no customers at all, apart from me. The boy led me into the middle of the store and stopped turning to look at me again; he let out a little whimper of surprise when he saw I was directly behind him. Evidently our silent approach had thrown him off-guard.

"My-er…boss tells me you're not looking for something new. You're looking to retrieve an old model, is that right?" My gaze darkened as I regarded this unconventional negotiator, he began to shake as my eyes bore into him, reading every twitch of his expression. If he wanted to speak in code that was fine with me, but I wasn't leaving this building now without a clear answer.

"That's right. My 'old model' was unfortunately taken away from me. Maybe you could ask around for its whereabouts." My tone was quiet but deadly as I felt a tiny twinge of satisfaction as the boy's knees began to buckle. Beads of sweat were breaking out on his forehead and I caught the smallest movement of his eyes towards an unoccupied corner of the store. So we were being watched, that was good to know.

"Y-yes. We can help." His voice jumped an octave on the yes, and I could see the other store members were just as pinned by terror as their unfortunate colleague was. "But-but first we require p-payment." The boy glanced down at the girl again, this time his face morphing from one of fear into a look of pity. His eyes snapped back to me as he felt my icy stare focusing in on him. "I'm afraid that's not how I do things. You give me what I want first, then I'll hold up my end of the deal." I half expected a puddle to appear at the feet of the boy with the look of abject horror he gave me.

"They-my boss wouldn't allow me to help until you give payment sir. I'm very sorry." I shot a frustrated look at the other employees and a venomous glance towards the corner the boy kept looking at. Cicada were trying to back me further into a corner and I felt my hand twitching closer to the holster inside my suit jacket. I could easily kill this boy's colleagues and force him to tell me but it would cause a scene for the busy rush outside the store. Now I was beginning to understand why Cicada had chosen this place for the meet. Still this noticeably unarmed, untrained band was an odd choice. It also appeared they were being coerced into doing this, I doubted whether any of these people were members of Cicada themselves.

"How can I be sure you even have what I'm looking for?" The boy jumped, swallowing again as he reached into his back pocket. My hand moved a little closer to my suit jacket as I watched him closely. With shaking hands he produced a rectangular piece of card, which, as he handed to me, I realised was a polaroid photograph. I took it slowly from him, flipping it over to see the image on the other side. Although I already had a pretty good idea what I would see.

Morgan was tied to a chair, her mouth gagged with a piece of fabric, long trails of blood dripping down from her hairline. I felt my throat tighten in anger as I scanned the bruises already blossoming on her exposed arms and face. The empty, helpless feeling of my nightmare threatened to return but I fought through it. It was a scene I had seen a thousand times before, usually with me standing over the victim trying to extract that crucial bit of intel before I ended their miserable existence. The only thing wrong with this picture was the look in Morgan's eyes. Instead of having her head bowed as most people who had taken such a beating would have, she was looking straight at the camera, her brown eyes blazing with defiance. My heart gave a painful twist as I looked at her brave expression, a small part of me proud at her reluctance to give in, but another much larger part of me silently willing her to act submissive. An interrogator was less likely to perform unnecessarily cruel acts if he thought his victim was weak. A defiant look like that would only serve to provoke her assailant.

The image began to shake and I found myself looking at my quivering hand holding the photo. "She need not suffer anymore. Hand over the child now and I will tell you where she is." My head whipped up as the boy uttered his demand. His voice still had a reedy warble to it but there was a mechanical edge to it as if someone was feeding him the lines.

"Not going to happen. There's nothing to tell me you won't all just disappear once you have her. Where's my assurance?" I spoke with a louder, more authoritarian tone, addressing whoever was talking to the boy in front of me rather than him. He didn't respond immediately, his eyes taking on a faraway look as he listened to the person I now knew for certain was whispering to him on an earpiece. I let my hand with the photo fall to my side, the abused image of Morgan burnt into my brain even out of sight.

After a moment the boy shook his head and replied to me in an apologetic tone. "You have none. That photograph is proof enough that we have what you want, but you must honour your end of the deal if you wish to see her in one piece again. If you leave now with the child we will take something from that which you cherish as punishment for your insubordination." I felt the cold flood of anger spread through my limbs at the manner in which this faceless puppet master was addressing me. Once again I was being treated like a mindless drone, useful only for completing orders.

Logically handing the girl over was the best option; I couldn't extract what I wanted without drawing attention to myself and risking Morgan. I was sure now that the nobodies in this store knew nothing, that the person with the intel I needed was hiding behind them, feeding them information when it suited. I could torture these idiots all I liked, but the information I wanted, along with the person who had it would be long gone from this boy's ear before I could break the first finger. To get what I wanted they had to have her. I let out a low growl of irritation as I made up my mind to concede. I looked down to where the child was stood next to me, as quiet as she had been since we arrived here. A brief moment of confusion crossed my face and I felt my eyes widen as I found the place where she had occupied a moment before empty.

I looked wildly towards the store entrance just in time to see a flash of pink and grey disappearing into the crowd. The boy stood in front of me let out a frightened whimper as he saw her disappear as well. I was only frozen for a minute before my instincts kicked my adrenaline up a gear. Without the child I had nothing to bargain for Morgan's whereabouts. Without so much as a backward glance at the boy I sprinted after the runaway child.

The flow of the crowd outside pushed against me as I sidestepped between them, staring over the tops of their heads searching for any sign of the girl. How had she got away from me so fast and without me hearing her? And what had made her bolt all of a sudden? It couldn't have been the conversation I was having, was she that perceptive?

I fought my way to the centre of the lower atrium and scanned the area, looking for a small flash of pink in amongst the living river of people. The anger and frustration I had felt back in the store was morphing into one of barely concealed panic. Then a familiar figure caught my attention, dancing nimbly up the escalator in front of me. She glanced back, her blue eyes standing out even from this distance before she was gone again. Quick as lightning.

I launched myself after her, weaving expertly through the startled crowd. Reaching the escalator in seconds I took the steps two at a time, forcing one elderly woman to let out a surprised shriek as I barrelled past her. I looked around sure that she wouldn't be far ahead but with a start I saw the girl in the distance, shooting between people's legs as she darted away from me. At full speed I could out run most, especially a child of her age, but this was obviously no ordinary child.

Gritting my teeth I began my pursuit again. Keeping my gaze firmly locked onto the rapidly retreating child. As dashed between the shoppers I could feel there shocked eyes following me, clearly linking me to the fleeing girl. My skin crawled under their accusing scrutiny, but there was something else. I felt the cold chill as if someone else was watching me, and although I had no proof I was certain who it was. Cicada.

I was gaining on the girl slowly, her path was haphazard and frantic, she was unsure where she was going. I pushed more speed into my legs as sidestepped past a group of women pushing prams. One of them called out behind me, "That man is chasing that girl!" And suddenly the curious looks I was getting felt a lot more hostile. It wouldn't do to finally catch the child to have a security guard make things difficult. A throw-away comment from the old woman at the convenience store surfaced in my mind, _"your daughter is adorable."_ I decided to play along to limit the animosity I was currently attracting.

"Seren!" I yelled out as I sprinted after her. The girl's head snapped back to look at me, her eyes wide with surprise. "Seren come back here!" I tried again. This time she scowled at me, her eyes darkening, glinting with something ominous. She turned her head away, ignoring my hollow shouts. The crowd's mood however had shifted noticeably from suspicion to sympathy. I heard another female voice call out as I dashed past her.

"Someone stop that girl. Quickly!" A few people ahead of me heeded her cry and made a dive for the small girl. Predictably she slipped through their reaching hands with little effort, adjusting her course as more people tried to block her path. We were reaching the end of the mall and I felt a twinge of panic as the doors to the outside loomed ahead of us. In here I was limited by the amount of people, but so was she. I was struggling to make up any distance between us now, outside in the open I was sure I would lose her.

"Seren!" I almost growled as I sped up even more. Now that the crowd saw me as a desperate father instead of a mysterious pursuer of children, they parted easily before me like water. This gave me the advantage I needed and I felt my mouth twitch up into a smug smile as the gap began to close between us. The child flicked a glance back to me obviously coming to the same conclusion, and in an instant she had grabbed the railing stopping anyone falling to the level below and vaulted over it.

There was a chorus of screams from the gathered shoppers, who had decided to stop and watch the drama unfolding, crying out in horror as the child dropped down to the floor below. I leaned over the railing to see her decent, but she was already picking herself up and continuing her flight as if nothing of note had happened, ignoring the stunned expressions of everyone around her.

Letting out a low curse under my breath I ran over to the escalator to take me back down, not wanting to cause more of a scene by making the large drop myself. I tried my best to dismiss the hushed murmuring from the gathered crowd. Their stares now cautious as they watched me descend to the lower level once more. The feeling of being watched intensified as I skidded around the escalator and followed the path I had seen the girl take. It felt like a thousand icy knives stabbing at the back of my head as I ran, at a slower pace now, searching the crowd for any sign of my quarry. Letting a child slip away from me, even an genetically engineered one, was a sobering situation.

I glanced into the shops as I past, hoping to see her hiding inside. As the end of the mall came to meet me I slowed further until I was briskly walking amongst the shoppers. They were no longer looking at me, the drama left behind me, but there was still that feeling. I whipped my head around trying to locate where those eyes were watching me from, but there was no one. My gaze landed on a security camera perched high on a wall, its red light blinking at me like a mocking eye. I glared at it for a moment before returning to my task of finding the girl.

On the lower level there was no exit to the outside, only a sturdy looking wall faced me now. She had definitely run this way, so she must have gone somewhere. I looked at the two shops flanking me, both had very few people in and definitely no children. I was just about to investigate them anyway when I caught sight of a large set of industrial doors with a sign claiming AUTHORISED PERSONNEL ONLY on it. The doors looked heavy, too heavy for a normal six year old, but easily opened by a changeling.

I approached it and noticed the doors weren't shut properly, one was resting slightly proud of the other, as if someone had entered and not shut it correctly behind them. Giving one last look to the mall behind me I slipped quickly through and closed the door with a definite clang.

I found myself in a staff corridor; breeze block walls and strip lighting strung down the length of it. It was empty, with no places to hide and no corners. I walked down it, listening carefully for the sound of footsteps. Although the chances of me hearing the eerily quiet footfalls of the girl were unlikely. That being said I was certain it wasn't just the two of us anymore. The corridor led to another door, this one was noticeably left ajar. A sign on the faded blue metal declared the room beyond to be the 'Loading Bay'. I stepped through and was faced with a large open area, with stacks and stacks of boxes piled high. They were positioned in rows, a gap between each one just wide enough for a forklift truck.

There was no noise whatsoever here. The constant rumble of the shopping mall had faded to nothing, and despite the thin metal shutters covering the loading bay entrance there was no sound of traffic either. I ghosted silently through the maze of boxes, the hairs on my arms standing to attention as that feeling of being watched grew. My hand slide inside my suit jacket and gripped my silenced pistol. Best to be ready.

I entered one of the narrow aisles comprised of boxes and came to a halt. The girl was stood in the middle of the aisle facing me, but she wasn't alone. Another older girl was holding her wrist, staring straight at me as if expecting my arrival. I recognised her instantly, she was the changeling from the farm. The one I had wrestled before she had crushed Morgan's dog to a bloody pulp in her arms. A cool shiver ran up my spine, but it wasn't one of fear, it was simply an alarm for my senses to pay attention. Danger present.

The child seemed unconcerned by the older girl holding her in place. She was gawking up at her with an openly curious look, her mouth slightly open as the girl's glassy eyes narrowed and her grip tightened at the sight of me drawing my pistol.

"I believe that belongs to me." I growled as I held my pistol by my hip, aiming it at the changeling. She stared blankly at me for a moment, the child looking to me as I spoke. There was no alarm in those blue eyes of her, it was the same expression she had worn when Victoria had moved to attack her mother. Cool and calculating, as if taking in everything that was going on before deciding on what to do. I was about to take a step towards the pair when the changeling suddenly smiled and I heard approaching footsteps rushing towards us.

I turned my head slightly, looking in my peripheral to see who was coming. Annoyance swept through me as I saw a dozen men dressed in plain clothes but all of them holding handguns come bursting into the loading bay and gravitate to my position. My jaw clenched as they stopped, aiming their guns at me, surrounding me. It had been a trap, Cicada had never intended for me to get any closer to Morgan. The child running away had only played into their hands. But as I looked at her, her eyes still drinking in the events unfolding, a dark intelligence simmering beneath the surface, I remembered my dream and Morgan's desperate plea again. _Save her._

I turned slowly to the side, my expression blank as I looked at each of the men in turn. I had come here to trade the child for my partner, but now I was being openly threatened I felt the plan changing. I would save her like Morgan wanted, and Morgan. I was the best in the business and I wasn't about to be taken for a fool.

Moving my thumb across my pistol, I unlatched the safety and fixed a narrow eyed stare on the nearest man. "So," I said in a low, deadly tone, "how shall we proceed?" The man glanced at one of his companions, there was a pause, as if the room was holding its breath, before he turned back to me and opened fire.

* * *

 **A/N: Hello guys, a few of you have asked when I'm going to update next and I thought I'd leave you a quick message to reassure you all I am still alive. I am currently half way through Chapter 26, I am truly sorry my pace has slowed recently but it is due to me taking on a new role in work and having significantly less time to write than I did before. I hope you will remain patient with me. I do not intend to abandon this story, and I take this very seriously as my aim is to write an original novel after completing this fanfic. Thanks to you all for your continued support and I hope to have the next chapter up in the next week. :)**


	27. Chapter 26

**A/N: Hey guys, so here is the next chapter as promised. Thanks for the patience. But there's no better time to finish this story than now, Hitman 2 baby, yeah! XD Hope you're all as excited as I am for that. Anyway, thanks for all of you still reading this, I always appreciate the comments. So nothing more to say other than read, review and of course...enjoy! :)**

Chapter 26

I managed to dodge the first barrage of bullets by bringing the wall of boxes behind me crashing to the floor, throwing my assailants off. However it obscured my line of sight to them as well. Giving my surroundings a sweep I noted with a sinking feeling that the changeling had vanished from where she had been stood, taking the girl with her. One of the men's heads appeared briefly over the top of my box wall and without hesitating I fired a shot straight through his forehead.

Preferring not to wait for his friends to flank me I swiftly moved down the remaining aisle of boxes towards where the changeling had been. I could hear the other men talking in hushed tones before they went silent. I felt my mouth twitch as I distanced myself from them, if their plan was stealth that would suit me fine. I could already feel myself adjusting to the change of tact, from all out full frontal assault to picking off my quarry one by one. It was what I was more comfortable doing; this was my forte.

There was no sign of the changeling as I lowered into a crouch and moved quietly out of the now decimated aisle. My first task was to dispose of the unwelcome additions courtesy of Cicada. They had now spread out from the nucleus they had formed around me and I could hear their muted footsteps as they tried to remain silent. I was keenly aware the changeling and Seren were still in the loading bay. I could feel the glassy eyed stare trained on me from an unseen corner of the room. The fact I couldn't pinpoint where they were hiding made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck, I needed to find the girl and get us both out of here.

Focusing on my current task I moved swiftly, hugging the wall of boxes as I zeroed in on the sound of boots on hard concrete. I advanced on his position and came up quickly behind the unsuspecting man, wrapping a strong hand around his mouth to stifle his scream as I sent a silenced bullet into his spinal cord. He collapsed against me and I gently he laid him down. The familiarity of the actions sending a soothing calm through my rattled nerves. I was back in my comfort zone and thinking clearly.

The next two men were equally easy to take out. Both falling to the ground with a look of horrified surprise frozen on their faces. I calculated I had nine left and judging by their continued silence they either hadn't noticed their missing comrades or were too well trained to react. There was still no sign of the changeling but I had been keeping an eye on the exits and hadn't seen anyone slip through. Although the girl had managed to get away from me in the store without much trouble. It unnerved me that they hadn't even attempted to make an exit, in my gut I knew something was wrong.

Another one of the men wandered carelessly past my hiding place and I made short work dispatching him in the same way I had dealt with his companions. I was just starting my sweep of the next section of the loading bay when a small, high pitched sound made me freeze where I stood. "Tobias?" Seren's voice sounded scared and desperate as she called out my alias. I immediately swivelled on the spot to face the direction it had come from; a dark corner of the loading bay. Holding my gun at eye level, ready to fire at the merest hint of an ambush, I moved swiftly over to where I thought she and the changeling were. Unfortunately I was all too aware that the remainder of Cicada's surprise task force would also gravitate towards the noise.

Keeping my senses alert for anyone trying to flank me I skirted around a large pile of boxes to come face to face with an unexpected scene. Instead of finding the child in the deadly grip of the changeling that had been holding onto to her so fiercely earlier, I found Seren stood over the now kneeling older girl her tiny hand pulling her head back in what looked like a painful position. The changeling's teeth were bared in a furious grimace as she wrestled with the other girl's hand in her hair. Even in her dominant situation Seren's face was contorted into a look of abject horror as she stared down at the genetically enhanced killing machine.

I lowered my gun an inch to better reveal my face to her, Seren's blue eyes darted to mine as she caught the minuscule movement. "Tobias." She said again, her voice still wavering with the high tremolo of fear. The changeling struggled against her hold and I couldn't help but note Seren's obvious strength. When I had restrained the same changeling it had taken all of my power to hold her in place, now she was clawing at Seren's hand to little affect. The child didn't appear to be straining, she simply continued to look at me ,her eyes wide and watery. "She's the one that killed Gelert."

It took me a moment to remember who she was talking about, then it came to me; the old sheepdog that had been glued to her side back on the farm. The same sheepdog she had seen snapped in two by the changeling knelt in front of her now. I didn't respond, watching the scene before me with a wary curiosity. Victoria had been similarly triggered into action by Dexter's taunts all those years ago, but there was an unconscious, raw emotion behind the child's current actions. As if she was unaware of what it was she was doing.

The changeling let out a low growl as she attempted to pull away from her unexpected captor again. Seren's brow merely furrowed slightly as she adjusted her footing, getting a firmer hold on the other girl. "She killed my dog. Does that mean she killed Uncle Rudy too, and Ma, is she the one who took her?" The changeling abruptly stopped struggling as Seren's thought process reached her mother. I didn't like the way the girl's glassy eyes seemed to slide towards me at the mention of Morgan. My mouth twisted up into a slow snarl as Seren's question planted in my mind and began to take root. It was likely a changeling did abduct Morgan, there had been no sign of a struggle and I was more than a little certain if it had been one of the mercenaries closing in on me now she would have at least shot one of them in self-defence. But a child, even a genetically created child built for killing, she would never have harmed one of them. Her daughter was one after all.

"Where is she?" I heard myself hiss at the changeling now in her daughter's grasp. Seren looked at me, her blue eyes shining with something I hadn't seen before in them; trust. The changeling snarled again as she resumed her struggle, this time trying to push herself upright to throw Seren off balance. She simply took a calculating step back so the girl's head was pulled into an even more awkward position. I felt one eyebrow rise at the child's impressive control. This was without any training, imagine what she would be capable off with it.

"Where is Morgan?" I asked the changeling again. Now that the contact in the computer store was likely gone, this was my one remaining thread in a tapestry that had always been impossible to see. The changeling didn't seem ready to oblige me however and I felt a shiver run up my spine as my senses latched onto the sound of someone trying to stay quiet behind me. As if on cue I saw Seren's gaze shift from me to something just by my right shoulder. My time was up, I would have to continue this new line of questioning once we were out of here.

"Don't do anything stupid now." I had to suppress my eye roll as the hollow command came from the man who was now moving slowly into view, his gun dutifully raised. I could sense the remainder of his cohort were also once again circling me.

"Define stupid." I shot at him in a low voice as I turned my gaze to look at him, making sure to keep my gun focused on the changeling. His face stayed steely as he glared back at me from over his gun.

"You're surrounded. If you try anything we'll shoot the girl." I flicked a glance towards Seren as he spoke. She stared at me, her arm straining as she held onto the now wildly failing changeling. I wasn't entirely sure of her capabilities but I had no time to find out now. I did my best to convey my desire for her to stay where she was, holding the dangerous obstacle still trying to break free. I knew the man's threat was a bluff, there was no way he would shoot the very thing they had been sent to retrieve.

Wasting no more time, my attention snapped back to the man directly beside me. I could sense the other nine remaining men grouped around me in a loose semi-circle, blocking our exit from the loading bay. Swinging my pistol behind me I fired two shots into the two men I could feel at my back, the heavy thuds that followed my shots signalled I had hit my targets. Before the man I still had my eyes locked on could react I slammed my free forearm into his pistol, smashing it into his face. Blood spurted out of his nose as he tried to recover from my sudden assault but my hand was already closing round his now exposed throat, his eyes bulging as I began to squeeze.

I turned my head a fraction to aim my pistol at one of his comrades who was rushing me. I fired without thought straight into his forehead and saw the light leave his eyes as he folded onto the floor. The man I was holding started to gurgle as the rest of the men finally got their act together and started shooting at me. I quickly crushed his windpipe and left him gasping desperately as I rolled to evade the barrage now being unleashed on me.

The sound of shooting abruptly stopped, it took me a moment to realise I had rolled towards Seren and the changeling, and as predicted the mercenaries were too scared of shooting their objective to continue their assault on me. They were closing in however, but I took the brief reprieve to check on the girl. Seren was still watching me, our eyes now at the same height as I knelt a few feet away from her. Her expression was calmer than before but the changeling had stopped in her efforts of escaping and was watching me with dead, glassy eyes.

I felt an ominous feeling grip my stomach but before I could act on it I felt a man's hand grab my shoulder. Without hesitation I gripped it and twisted it until I heard the snap and give of his bones breaking. He let out a stifled cry and I turned away from the two girls to finish him just as I saw the changeling give a violent jerk forward, pulling free of Seren's grasp.

I was acutely aware of the danger I was now in as I wrestled with the man on top of me, who was putting up a good fight for someone who's wrist I had just broken. Focusing my hearing I could hear the sound of scuffling behind me, but I was unable to determine who was winning without looking. Gritting my teeth in frustration I grabbed the man's head and jerked it to one side in a decisive movement. His body went limp on top of me and I scrambled to my feet as the final four men rushed towards me as one.

I fought off two and managed to turn myself to see what was happening. The scene wasn't good. The changeling had righted herself and was now gripping Seren by the elbow firmly, her face contorted in rage as she attempted to drag the other girl away with her. Seren had planted her feet and was trying to resist, but with nothing to hold onto she was inevitably losing ground. I took in a sharp breath as one of the men still standing delivered a swift punch to my side. I needed to finish this fast, but I also knew if I turned away now the changeling would drag Seren away.

A tight knot formed in my stomach, not dissimilar to the one I felt whenever Morgan was in danger. Calmly fighting through the pain I now felt spreading through my side, I levelled my pistol at the changeling's legs. The two bullets shattered her knees and she crumpled to the floor. Seren gave me a relieved look as she freed herself from the girl's grasp, and I felt my mouth unconsciously begin to twitch up into my old half smile.

A blow to the back of the head dimmed my vision and in alarm I whirled back round, forgetting Seren for a moment as one of the men attacking me stood with a large metal pole in his hands. As I tried to fathom where he had got it he swung it again hitting me on the side of my head. I felt my knees give way and blood pooled over my tongue. I spat, clearing the metallic taste from my mouth and aimed my gun at one of the two sets of legs stood in front of me.

The repeated beating to my head had unfortunately slowed my response time and before I could fire a single shot at my remaining assailants another relentless blow fell down on me. I collapsed unceremoniously onto the hard concrete ground. My head a swirling mass of pain and disorientation.

"That's it keep him down Mike." One of the men shouted enthusiastically at his partner. Hot angry shame filled my gut as the taste of dust mingled with blood in my mouth. With far more effort than I should have needed I pushed myself up to my knees. Forcing the pain back down; it was merely a distraction, I had felt worse, I focused on the sound of the metal pole being raised again. Using all of my residual strength I lifted my hand at the last minute and felt a grim smile tug at my mouth as the cool metal of the pole connected with my palm.

I heard a low curse as I took a firm grip on the weapon and held it in place as I tried to regain my senses. My ears were ringing from the assault on my head and my vision was still unclear. As I took a deep breath preparing to yank the pole from my attacker's hand I felt the resistance pushing down on me from his end lighten and disappear suddenly.

Forcing my head up I looked around for his next attack, assuming he had retrieved his weapon from my grip. I blinked in momentary confusion as only one set of legs now greeted me, my assailant with the pole nowhere in my peripheral vision. Taking advantage at the unexpected turn in events I reached out and grabbed the waiting legs. I felt my target's alarm as I pulled him down on top of me and quickly gained the upper hand by flipping him underneath me. The pain in my head dulled as I took back control, elbowing off his clawing hands I made quick work of breaking his neck. Stumbling to my feet and retrieving my silenced pistol ready to finish this ridiculous fight, finally. I span around, looking for my pole man but felt my blood turn icy at the scene I found instead.

Seren was stood over the limp body of the mercenary, she was gripping the collar of his shirt with one tiny hand looking down at his lolling head. His eyes were wide open and had the unmistakable film of death over them. I could tell from the awkward angle his head was hanging that his neck was broken, and seeing as I was sure his pole hadn't invoked temporary memory loss there was only one person responsible.

She looked up at me as I stood there regarding her, my breathing slightly laboured and my shirt covered in drops of my own blood. She had a faraway, dangerous look in those eyes. It was cold and detached. They were my eyes.

She blinked, taking in my appearance and the look was gone. She let go of the corpse in her hand as if it was on fire and took a step back. There was fear in her eyes now and I prepared myself for the inevitable break down of someone who had killed for the first time.

"Don't tell ma. She'll be so upset with me."

I had to stop my mouth from dropping open at the unexpected request. All I could bring myself to do was nod dumbly. This girl was definitely an enigma. There was something unnerving about the small child standing over the body of a man she had just killed with her bare hands, worrying about what her mother would think. Taking in a steadying breath I gathered my significantly scattered thoughts and flicked my gaze to the struggling changeling behind her. She was attempting to get up after being floored by my shots. In one fluid movement I picked up the now dead mercenary's pole and delivered a precise blow to the side of the girl's head. She dropped like a stone to the floor.

I tossed her easily over my shoulder and turned to look at Seren. "Time to go." The child seemed unphased by my violent handling of the changeling, or the blood bath she had just witnessed. All things to add to the list of stuff I planned to address as soon as possible.

I strode towards the metal grating blocking the exit and was aware of Seren trotting obediently behind me. At least that little event had earned me her trust, the last thing I wanted was to see exactly how strong the girl really was.

* * *

"Is she going to help us?"

I flashed a sideways look at Seren as she peered over at the unconscious changeling on the back seat.

"Hopefully yes." I replied. My voice softer now as I spoke to the child. She gave me an uncertain look as she turned back to face forward. I was still trying to come to terms with her unaffected attitude having just ended a man's life. Thinking back to my first kill I couldn't remember whether I had handled it any better, having my emotions wiped by the Doctor had rendered most of my early life a hazy mess. But I was certain I hadn't acted like it hadn't happened at all. The child next to me was gazing intently out of the front window of the car, humming quietly to herself. It was as if she had no memory at all of what she had done, and the way she had reacted to the body, as if she had simply broken something valuable rather than a man's neck.

"Listen. When we stop I need to talk to you." She looked at me with her openly curious expression, there was no sign of any fear or remorse anymore, it sent a shiver up my spine.

"Ok. Are we still going to get ma? She didn't look well in that picture." Seren switched her gaze to her hands which were resting in her lap and I noticed her pleated skirt was torn and covered in spots of drying blood. She was biting her lip and the air around her was suddenly thick with the feeling of apprehension. So she wasn't devoid of emotions obviously, but were they real? I wondered idly as I pulled off the road and down a secluded lane.

"I'll get her back." It came out more forcibly than I intended and I felt the girl's eyes flash to the side of my face as I pulled up to a remote house surrounded by trees. The ICA safe house looked like it hadn't been used in a few years, there were weeds growing over the path leading up to the door of the mundane looking building and the windows were dark with grim but most importantly unbroken. Despite the rundown appearance the place still looked secure and that was what mattered. "Come on." I said as I got out of the Audi and dragged the limp body of the changeling from the back seat.

I watched Seren closely as she explored the safe house. There wasn't much to it, limited furniture, bare walls, an empty shell mostly. However, she still managed to look like a starving man seeing food for the first time as she examined every inch of it. Her unending curiosity could be quite endearing I supposed, to any normal person at least, but to me it looked like someone programmed to take in every aspect of their surroundings.

I left her downstairs flicking through the channels on the ancient TV and took the changeling upstairs to the only room I was interested in. It was a small square room with no windows on the second floor, there was a metal work bench and a metal chair next to a chest of drawers containing numerous weapons and ammo. I dumped the changeling in the chair and quickly took out a fibre wire from the chest of drawers and used it to bound her wrists tightly behind her. The wire cut into her flesh as I made sure it was secure but judging by the way she had recovered from the shots to her knees I was certain it wouldn't bother her.

Grabbing a concealable baton from the drawer I gave the changeling one last cursory glance before heading back downstairs. No doubt Cicada would take their anger at my disregard for their rules out on Morgan, so I had to deal with this as quickly as possible. The bright sounds of a cartoon met me as I entered the small shabby living room and saw Seren sat on the one chair in the room, her knees tucked up under her chin as she watched the garishly coloured characters dancing around the screen. She didn't look at me as I stood in the doorway watching her, but I knew she was aware of me.

She was a lot like Victoria I was discovering, built to be the ultimate killer without any training. The perfect weapon. However, I intended to make her aware of her capabilities before she went about snapping anymore necks in the heat of the moment.

"Get up, we're going outside." She looked at me then, a small frown creasing her forehead. I gave her an icy look back and turned towards the back door of the house. "Now." I shot over my shoulder as I left. There was brief pause before the disorderly sound of the cartoon was cut off as she switched of the TV.

The back yard of the house was worse kept than the front. It was surrounded on all sides by dense woodland, hiding it from any prying eyes and the lawn itself had turned into an unruly meadow with knee high grass. I paced to the middle of the small patch of land and turned to see Seren wading through the undergrowth towards me. The grass may be knee high on me but it was nearly arm pit high on the child. She shot me a perplexed look as she came to a stop a few feet in front of me. I regarded her coolly, trying to relax my normally intimidating stance.

I had been wary and a little harsh with her in the past, but since my nightmare and my sudden change of plan I had started to see more and more of Victoria, and especially Morgan in the girl. Morgan's confused expression stared up at me now, waiting to see what I wanted. I had attempted to perform a similar lesson with Victoria a few years after rescuing her. Diana had insisted I try to teach her how to control her instincts but it had only ended in her becoming more introverted and revealing how poor a teacher I was. I hoped my exposure to Morgan's patient, understanding nature and the severity of the situation would improve the outcome this time around.

"Have you ever fought anyone…before today?" I tacked the end of my question on as an afterthought but the child didn't flinch.

"No. Ma always said I had to be careful as I might hurt someone without realising it. Like I did with that man today. I just wanted him to stop hitting you." I felt something tighten in my throat at her comment. I hadn't expected that response, but it proved that the child had no idea what she was capable of. Morgan had kept her away from anything that might provoke violence, obviously triggered by her early incident with the knife, but whilst that had proven effective at stopping accidents it hadn't prepared Seren for anything like what she was facing now.

"Fine. We'll talk about what happened later, right now I'm going to show you what to do if someone is attacking you like those men were attacking me." I flicked my wrist causing the baton I was holding to extend with a harsh snap. I watched with fascination as Seren's body tensed ever so slightly, her eyes now glued to the weapon in my hand. The movement was so small you could have mistaken it for a instinctual reaction to an unexpected noise, but I could see the readied stance of a killer preparing for my next move.

"Are you aware of what you're doing?" She blinked at me, her muscles relaxing.

"No." My mouth tightened at her honest response and I prepared to begin the lesson. Her feet were hidden in the tall grass but I could see her shift her weight in readiness for my attack. I decided to take the direct approach and come for her head on. Striding forward through the grass I raised the baton intending to halt my strike just above her shoulder, but before I could get anywhere near the child she had danced to one side so she was stood next to me watching my arm intently. Speed was obviously her forte as I attempted a few more obvious movements and she avoided each with ease.

Her face was expressionless as I relaxed and let the baton fall to my side. "Very good. You seem to be able to read a person's movements without much thought. Let's try something a bit more complicated, I want you to take my weapon from me." I watched as a wide smirk split her face. Was she enjoying this?

"Ok." She answered simply, and I raised my eyebrows as she lowered her posture into a subtle crouch. Taking a breath to focus my senses I resolved to see how far I could push her, to truly test the girl's capabilities. She may only be a child but she was made to kill so treating like she was made of glass wasn't going to get us anywhere.

Without giving her any more time to anticipate I launched myself towards her, attacking from the side rather than head on. I saw a brief look of surprise cross her face before she darted to the side and out of reach again. I sent a flurry of blows towards her, doing my best to land just one but her speed was something else. Even Victoria hadn't evaded me this efficiently on her first try.

I opened up my stance a little, attempting to draw her in with an obvious chance to grab the baton from me. As I had hoped she took the bait and dashed towards me, her small hands reaching for the weapon. I snatched the baton away at the last moment and delivered a sharp, if not half hearted, blow to her stomach. She staggered back from the hit but kept her footing, her face a mixture of shock and annoyance as she blinked up at me.

"That hurt." She commented, rubbing her middle. I gave a shrug in response.

"It would have been worse if I was trying to cause damage." Seren scowled at me. "I'm not here to play games. Your skills are most effective when your opponents aren't expecting it. You need to learn how to handle a head on attack without it ending in someone being killed." Her frown deepened at my words.

"But you killed all those men." It took me a minute to form an answer. The child's casual attitude towards death was a genetic trait rather than a learned one. Was it something the doctors had programmed into her, or an inheritance from me I wondered. I was careful how I phrased my response back to the child.

"I don't have a choice, you do. Killing is not something you do lightly, it is a last resort, an option only if you have nowhere else to go and nothing more to lose. Do you understand?" There was a weight to my voice that I hadn't planned. A small part of me wondered if this was what I had wished someone had said to me when I was her age. I watched as she thought about my question, then she looked at me with the same serious look Morgan gave to me when she wanted to be listened to.

"I do."

"Good. We shall continue." I sparred with the child for another hour, knocking her to the ground numerous times and coaching her every time she made an obvious mistake. She never grumbled, merely brushing the dirt from her ruined skirt and starting again. If she got her stomach for death from me, then she definitely got her stubbornness from Morgan.

After an hour she finally managed to snatch the baton from my grasp. The pure strength I felt when she wrestled it from me made me blink, but I pushed my unease down as I gave her a small half smile. "Well done. We'll stop here for today." I saw her relax almost instantly back into the curious child she was from the serious, focused fighter moments before. "Remember, disarming an opponent is always better than simply avoiding them. It transfers the power back to you even if you don't intend to wield it."

She nodded solemnly at my comment, maybe I had improved as a teacher. "That was fun." She said brightly as she handed the baton back to me. "Did you do this with Victoria too?" I blanched at her question.

"Yes. I did. Did Diana tell you that?" The child shook her head.

"No, she did. She said you used to get annoyed at her but that was only because you cared." I felt my brow furrow at the unexpected turn the conversation had taken.

"I wanted her to be safe. It's not your fault you were both put in this situation." A sharp, twisting sensation shot through my gut at the realisation. We were all the same; all three of us. Helpless pawns in someone else's game, trying to make sense of it all. The pain melted into pity, for Victoria and the way I had dismissed her, for Seren and her confusing new reality and for me. I had gone along with my set path the longest, letting other people decide my fate again and again. Maybe that was why I was so frantic to get Morgan back, she represented more than just a person I felt affection for, she was freedom. "Did you and Victoria talk often?" I asked gently, curious if Seren had gleaned anything about Victoria's well-being whilst living with her.

"A bit, she was always quite grumpy. And then she left and Diana got mad. No one really spoke to me much after that." I felt my muscles tense, my gut sending warning signals to my brain.

"What do you mean 'she left'?" Seren tilted her head to the side, her expression confused.

"I mean she left. One night she was there, then the next morning she had gone. Diana had all her friends search the house but they never found her. I guess she was upset because her and Diana had a fight the day before and she is like her ma isn't she?" I listened in mute horror at the story. Why had Diana not said anything when I had come to get Seren? I was angry, but not so much that the information wasn't important to me.

"Did you hear what their fight was about?" It was a long shot, but if I had learnt anything over the last couple of days it was not to underestimate the girl's intelligence.

"I heard my name a lot and ma's. But I was in my room at the time and they were downstairs so it was hard to hear." I tried to process all I had heard. On the surface it didn't seem relevant to my current problem, but I still felt a twinge of guilt at having left Victoria for so long in an unhappy state. I was sure she could look after herself and I made a promise to locate her as soon as all this was done.

"Thank you for telling me Seren." She smiled up at me sweetly.

"That's ok…47." I felt my body tense further at the sound of my name and saw a mischievous twinkle enter the girl's eye. Yes, definitely not one to underestimate. We began to walk inside again and I was already planning my next move with the unconscious changeling in my captivity, when the feeling of being watched from behind overwhelmed me. I slowed my pace and heard the sound of faint rustling, like someone walking through high grass.

Without thinking I whirled around on the spot, throwing my arm out to push Seren behind my legs. The baton was already raised in readiness for the attack when I froze in place, taking in the lithe woman stood in front of me.

She held one arm above her head, flinching from the blow she thought I was about to throw at her. But her posture was solid and unafraid, the stance of a fighter. When I didn't move she lowered her arm revealing her familiar green eyes framed by dark, straight hair. I felt a small pair of hands grip my trousers as Seren peeked round me to see who it was.

"Victoria." She cried, her tone buoyant as if greeting an old friend. Victoria frowned in confusion at the child, like she wasn't sure why she was there all of a sudden, then returned her gaze to me.

"Sorry I startled you. It took me a while to find you." I let the baton fall to my side and did my best to soften my expression.

"Why did you leave Chicago Victoria? What happened?" She was wearing a dark navy sweatshirt and black jeans with walking boots. All clothes, I noted, designed to blend in when moving at night. There was dirt on them, as well as on her face and hands, her hair looked unkempt like she had been sleeping rough. There were dark circles under her eyes as she stared at me with a haunted expression.

"I couldn't stay there 47. I needed to talk to you but every time I got close you moved on again. Then you came back for her." She pointed at Seren who was still peering round me. Whatever had caused her to run, it was obviously important enough to risk pursuing me and sleeping outside. I gestured towards the safe house.

"Well you've found me, so tell me what's wrong." A wave of relief swept across her face and she took a few steps towards me before stopping again, fear filling her green eyes as she looked up at me.

"You haven't contacted Diana have you?" An icy sense of foreboding crept into the back of my mind as I shook my head.

"No. I was going to once I had new intel." Victoria's fear filled eyes flashed with an anger I hadn't seen in them for a very long time.

"Good. Don't." Her command was forceful and I felt the foreboding feeling strengthen as she passed me to enter the safe house. I only hoped whatever she had to tell me didn't delay my rescue of Morgan and prayed that my partner could hold out a little while longer.


	28. Chapter 27

**A/N: Hey guys, a quicker update this time and a longer chapter. Hopefully will have another one for you all soon, stick with me. Just a quick note this chapter has a bit of graphic imagery. You know the drill; read, review and enjoy! :)**

Morgan

Chapter 27

I couldn't think straight through the pain. It engulfed my body making it hard to pinpoint exactly where it was coming from. I knew I was tied to a chair, my hands secured by cable ties or twine and my legs strapped to the chair as well. I wasn't sure how long I had been here, after the third visit from one of my captors the hours and minutes simultaneously blurred into one and stretched out to infinity. Bobbing on the surface of consciousness I tried to lift my head, but the pain pulsed and throbbed wildly in my temples forcing it back down.

I hadn't felt anyone move me and the last I had seen I was still in a dark room, with no windows and one door. Apart from my chair the room was left bare, the only time anything was brought in was when I was fed a meagre portion of porridge by hand or my torturer decided to pay me a visit.

These were the worst times. It dragged me rudely out of the detached haze I had shielded myself in since realising my outlook looked bleak, and I was still none the wiser about what they wanted from me. The man who executed the beating on my body never asked me any questions or indeed spoke to me at all. There was nothing I could give that would stop him. It truly was a form of unending hell.

I tried to push myself back below the surface, into the cool, dark confines of my mind. As a trainee handler in the agency I had received some basic interrogation training; mostly on the art of interrogation itself but a little on how to resist if you ever found yourself in the unfortunate situation I now found myself in. _Breathe deeply, focus on your happiest memories, say nothing._

Well, saying nothing wasn't a problem. Cicada clearly wasn't interested in anything I had to say. So I had poured my energy into the other two instructions. I slowed my breathing now, getting a steady rhythm and began to sink back into my memories, away from the lancing pain in my joints, and the dull throbbing in my battered head.

* * *

 _"_ _Morgan, cariad, be careful now."_

 _My Uncle Rhydian stood with hands on hips, staring disapprovingly up at me. I grinned down at him cheekily from my perch in the tree on the outskirts of his farm land._ _"_

 _I am being careful Ewythr. Peidiwch_ _â phoeni." I let out a loud laugh as his frown deepened and he harrumphed as he turned away to face someone else._ _"_ _She's impossible Carwyn. Just like you." I stiffened slightly as the figure of my Father walked into view to join my Uncle. He raised his steady gaze up to me, his thick brow furrowed low over his brown eyes. I swallowed nervously as I felt his stare burn into me, then his expression changed in the blink of an eye. A matching grin to mine breaking through like sun on a cloudy day._

 _"_ _Dewch ymlaen you cheeky hefa you. You can play lookout later, we haven't got all day." With a half-hearted sigh I scrambled down from my comfortable position in the tall oak tree. I had enjoyed watching the rippling sea of grass stretching out towards the mountains. The sheep dotted over it like paint splats. Reaching the ground, I collapsed on my knees in front of my Dad. He let out a snort as I righted myself quickly dusting the mud from my jeans._

 _"_ _Ready?" He asked me, a twinkle in his eye as he looked down at me. I nodded, my grin still wide despite the minor fall. "Good." He clapped me on the back and propelled me past my still frowning Uncle towards the quad bike parked a few feet away._

 _"_ _The sheep are quite scattered Carwyn. We'll need to do a wide arc." I clambered onto the waiting vehicle as Dad swung his leg over to sit behind me. His strong arms reaching round me to grip the handlebars._

 _"_ _Sure thing Rudy. Me and Morgan have got it covered, right blodwyn." I craned my neck to look up at my Dad's beaming face and nodded. Uncle Rhydian huffed again but I saw his mouth twitch as he walked over to his large grey horse stood grazing not far away. He mounted up in one fluid movement, settling himself until the he and the horse looked like one. A shaggy black and white sheepdog bounded up to the horse's side and sat obediently staring up at his master._

 _"_ _He thinks he's a regular cowboy doesn't he?" My Dad whispered in my ear making me giggle, but deep down I felt nothing but awe at the man who kicked the powerful horse into an instant gallop and disappeared over the rise, his dog in tow. "Don't take offence to his grumpy mood, I think he worries you'll doing something too dangerous one day and hurt yourself."_

 _My giddy, childish mood soured a little as my Dad started the quad, the engine letting out an abrupt roar. Dangerous? What could possibly be dangerous in this small, boring part of the world?_

 _My Dad steered the quad bike away from the woods that formed a solid ring around my Uncle's farm and in the opposite direction to my disgruntled Uncle. We tore up the gentle rise of the field, heading towards the rocky side of the mountain where I could see a small cluster of sheep. Sharp jolts of pain shot up my spine as I bounced around on the seat. I grimaced against the sensation and even though my Dad tried his best to keep me steady the bouncing only got worse._

 _We hit a rock hidden in the scrubby grass and I let out a cry as the pain reached my head._

The bare walls of the room looked stained with something dark, I wasn't sure what. Blood maybe?

 _"_ _Sorry cariad. I'll go a bit gentler." My Dad's voice was like a balm; soothing the sudden pain. I gripped onto the seat tightly trying to stop the movement. Another jolt and the unpleasant feeling lanced through my spine, bursting in front of my eyes in red fireworks._

The sound of the heavy door cut through the roar of the engine. Someone entered the room, I could feel their presence next to me. The pain in my head increased.

 _"_ _Dad, Dad! I'm slipping." I could feel my grip failing as we sped up the mountain. Suddenly my Dad's arms weren't around me and I was falling, falling headlong down the hill. Hitting every rock as I went._

"Time to wake up."

* * *

The rough voice shattered my hallucination. The pain rushed in to greet me like an old acquaintance as I gained consciousness. I tried to open my eyes fully to see who, or what, I was going to be greeted with. A bowl of food, or a clenched fist but before I could raise my head far enough my visitor lost patience and decided to speed up my metabolism.

A cold wave of water hit me full in the face and I gasped as the air rushed out of my lungs in shock. For one brief, glorious moment the freezing water numbed the searing pain in my head, then it was over and the feeling of rusty nails driving into my brain only intensified as my skin stung from the ice cold temperature of my wake up call.

"Here. I don't have all day." My visitor thrust something at me and with a rush of relief I saw it was a spoonful of porridge. Meal time then, not torture time. Despite my relief I still felt my stomach flip at the thought of eating the bland cement I was being offered again. Even though I had no accurate idea of how long I had been here I knew it was only for a few days at least, I still never wanted to see another bowl of porridge again in my life. If I managed to make it out of this that was.

"Eat." My unseen visitor commanded, thrusting the spoon viciously towards my face. I couldn't make eye contact from my bound position and because my head felt like it was going to split in two every time I tried to lift it, but I scowled resolutely at the offending piece of cutlery as he managed to stuff it into my mouth. He continued this strangely humiliating act until the bowl was empty, then without another word he exited swiftly.

The door clanged shut and I was alone again. I let out a long breath which turned, much to my chagrin, into a raking sob. I refused to let them see my despair, it wouldn't get me out of here and if I succumbed to the hopelessness threatening to overwhelm me I was certain I wouldn't last much longer. And I had to, to give _him_ time to come for me.

There was no way of knowing if 47 was even bothering to rescue me, it wasn't like him, but the 47 I had met six years ago and the one I knew now were different people. I steered my thoughts away from my partner, dwelling on him only led my mind to Seren and thinking about her sent me into a panic. _Focus on your happiest memories._ I squeezed my eyes, feeling mild surprise when I felt wetness trail down my cheeks, and through sheer will power forced myself back into my safe zone.

* * *

 _"_ _That's a good one blodwyn."_

 _I beamed up at my Uncle as he sat next to me on the sofa. He was flicking through the new digital camera my Dad had given me for my thirteenth birthday, which I had already filled up with photos of our house, the farm and my friends from school. "You should print that out." He continued, showing me the one he meant._

 _It was a landscape, taken from the top of the hill overlooking Bryn Ddu Farm. The sky was a moody grey and the summer grass shifted in the mountain wind making the farm buildings look like small, boxy ships alone in the ocean. I took the camera and stared at the picture. It was good, I admitted. The rush of taking a perfect image, a moment frozen in time, always made my skin prickle and my heart beat faster. It was like a drug._

 _I moved through a few more until I came to my school ones. It had taken the best part of the morning to persuade my Dad to let me take it to school, he was adamant I would lose it or someone would take it. Compact digital cameras were relatively new and it was bound to catch one of the local farm boy's eye. I scoffed and insisted if anyone tried to take it from me I'd break their wrist. My Dad had laughed, ruffling my hair like I was still a small kid, and told me he didn't doubt that._

 _There were a few photos of my close friends; head on shots of them smiling broadly as a group. But it was candid photos I prized the most. I had spent break time sat in an unknown corner of the school yard, a gap created by the brick wall surrounding the grounds and the metal container holding all the sports equipment. I liked to sit here some lunch times and watch the other kids playing on the yard. I learnt a lot. Who was in, who was out, who was picked on, who was feared. It made me feel powerful, watching unobserved, I got to know everyone's true sides._

 _I took pictures all break time of my fellow students, documenting the coming and goings I saw every day. These were my favourite collection. The landscapes and the animal pictures I had always taken were beautiful, artistic even, but the shots I took of people were fascinating to look at._

 _I_ _was completely absorbed in my camera's tiny screen, so didn't see my parents walk into the room. "How do they look?" My Dad asked brightly, making me jerk my head up in surprise. He was stood next to my Ma who was smiling fondly at me. They were positioned in an odd way, stood still, facing me and my Uncle as if about to make an announcement. I frowned up at them as I answered._

 _"_ _Great. It's brill I can see the photos straight away, although I still like your camera a little better." My Dad smiled his sunny smile._

 _"_ _Well, you can still borrow it. Although I'm not sure why you're so keen on waiting for you photos. This is the latest and greatest thing cariad." He laughed at me, and I let out a grumpy, teenage huff._

 _"_ _Not all technology is good Dad." I muttered, feeling my cheeks redden at his teasing._

 _"_ _Oh dear," He exclaimed, casting an overly dramatic worried look at my Ma. She gave him a warning glance in return but he continued. "Then I suppose you don't want your other present?" I straightened in my seat at the mention of another present. My birthday had been a week ago and I had got what I asked for._

 _"_ _I'm listening." I said, my interest piqued. My Dad laughed his infuriatingly infectious laugh again and I couldn't help but smile despite my annoyance at him._

 _"_ _Excellent. But rather than me and your mother tell you, why don't we show you?" He waggled his bushy eyebrows at me and I rolled my eyes in a half-hearted attempt to appear nonchalant, when secretly I was more than intrigued._

 _"_ _Fine. Where is it?" I asked coolly, placing my camera on the arm of the chair and standing. My Uncle followed suit, his grizzly face a mask of confusion. So it was just my parents in on it, curious indeed._

 _"_ _It's in the study." My ma's soft voice drawing my attention to her. She was the opposite of my Dad, quiet, pragmatic and fiercely intelligent, a lot like her brother Rhydian. Dad was loud, impulsive and impossibly funny, they were the true embodiment of opposites attract. I followed the pair of them now to the study, my Uncle following behind._

 _My parents stopped at the entrance to the room and turned to face me again. I gave them both a brief look before opening the door and peering in. The study in my house was small and usually only contained a desk which my Ma wrote up the accounts for the farm and two bookshelves. Now though my eyes were immediately drawn to the small writing desk someone had put in one corner, although it wasn't the desk itself which made me draw in a sharp breath. There was a brand new computer set up on it, the sleek black monitor looking significantly out of place in the room devoid of all other technology._

 _"_ _Called in a favour with one of the guys in the village. He said it's the top of the range right now." I turned to stare open mouthed at my Dad, he continued his eyes shining with delight at my shock. "Now you can put all your photos from your new camera on your new computer. Also, we've connected it to the phoneline so you should get the Internet as well." I looked back and forth between my parents who were both smiling at me. I couldn't believe it, most people barely had a landline and a TV let alone a computer in this part of the world. I walked over to the futuristic looking machine and ran a hand over the keyboard. Just wait until I told everyone at school, they would be green._

 _My ma joined me and switched it on via the large black box underneath the desk. I watched in stunned fascination as the blank screen came to life and the whirring sounds started up. A computer and the internet, the possibilities were endless. I could see the world from my small, draftee house in the middle of Wales._

 _"_ _Hope you like it cariad." My ma said quietly and gave me a kiss on the cheek._

 _"_ _Diolch ma." I breathed back._

 _"_ _Not sure why she needs it, but you know best." My Uncle's gruff voice broke through the spell and I turned my head to shoot an annoyed look at him. He was so old fashioned, using a horse to herd sheep and refusing to get any kind of electrical item in his home. If I didn't know better I would have thought he was paranoid, the farm would have been a good place to hide if you were wanted, as it was completely isolated in the past._

 _"_ _It's fine Rudy." My Dad guffawed clapping his brother in law on the back. "It's the future, we've all got to catch up some time you old cowboy." He gave me a wink and I tried to suppress a smile. "Come on, let's leave the kid to her new toy." He expertly steered my Uncle out of the room and my ma gave me another smile and a hug before leaving too._

 _I turned back to the computer, not sure where to start. We only had one old dusty model in school, which everyone shared, so my experience was limited. Still, as I sat down and started the setup process I told myself I would learn everything I could about the mystery machine. It was more than just a novelty in the corner of the room, it symbolised freedom, the ability to do anything, go anywhere. Not just be a girl set to inherit the family farm._

 _The process started by asking me a few question: language, location, time? I entered them all and immediately opened the internet browser that was already installed. All the information in the world, here I come I thought as I waited. It took a while, but what did I expect for a weak modem signal. Finally a page began to load and I watched with some confusion as a black screen with a weird white picture inched its way onto the screen._

This wasn't how it went.

 _What was it? It looked like a bird, no a bug! A moth? What was it? It had wings and a thick cigar shaped body, I hadn't seen anything like it before._

Yes I had.

 _I shook my head as the screen finally loaded and I frowned at the image. What did I do now? To my alarm the bug started to move, growing larger, its wings beating as it seemed to grow filling the screen. I sat back instinctually as it advanced on me, then it flashed and disappeared abruptly, replaced by a line of text._

 _Greetings Pilgrim, your path to enlightenment begins here. We look forward to meeting you. Cicada 3301_

* * *

The door slammed shut jolting me back out of my memories. I tried to get my bearings as the sound of footsteps advanced on me. The image of that cicada still burnt onto my retinas. My stomach churned as the memory faded; there was no escape from them now, they were even infecting my dreams.

The pain seemed to have dulled somewhat since my last moment of consciousness, but it was still potent enough to keep my head awkwardly bent. Still, I was able to make out an unfamiliar set of legs as they came to a stop in front of me. They were wearing beige, corduroy trousers and comfy loafers which looked wildly out of place on the grim, blood splattered floor. With a nauseous roll my stomach reminded me that that was my blood this new visitor was standing in.

"Can you raise your head?" A gentle voice asked me. Something in the back of my scrambled mind recognised the smooth accent, but I couldn't push the haze back enough to determine where I had heard it before. I didn't respond to his request, as it was a he, and tried to ignore the discomfort in my arms from being strapped behind me for so long. I wasn't sure what was happening but he wasn't the food guy and, more importantly, he wasn't the torture guy either. There was a pause as he waited for me to answer, then a small barely audible sigh. "Morgan?"

At the sound of my name my head automatically snapped up causing my vision to blur at the edges from the strain. The room was poorly lit but I could just about make out the features of the man stood in front of me. His hands clasped casually behind his back as he regarded me with watery blue eyes framed by thick rimmed glasses. His face was wrinkled and his short hair glowed white in the dim light. I frowned as my brain tried to place his familiar face, then with an expected jolt it struck me like lightning.

"You? You're that shop owner I bought my laptop from." I croaked, my voice unaccustomed to talking after not talking for days. He smiled at me, his friendly appearance completely at odds with his surroundings. If anything it made the whole situation highly creepy.

"Good. You remember me. They haven't pushed you too far yet." A cold shiver passed through my body as he continued to smile down at me with his grandfatherly expression.

"Who are you? Why are you here?" My voice was growing in strength now, but I couldn't disguise the fear in it. The shop owner, I couldn't quite remember his name, chuckled as he sank down to squat in front of me. He pulled his corduroy trousers up so they didn't drag on the filthy floor. Now his face was easy to see, the wrinkles by his eyes fanning out as he smiled widely at me.

"Of course, I haven't introduced myself properly. How rude. My name is Michael Horton snr, I run a chain of shops selling electrical goods and I also run a group of computer and online enthusiasts known as Cicada 3301." The bottom fell out of my stomach as I stared in horror at the unassuming old man in front of me. _This_ was the leader of Cicada? Some unknown shop owner in the back end of beyond?

However, the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. What better cover for a hacker organisation intent on controlling the governance of the world and its money than a humble computer store owner. The penny dropped just as Michael's smile began to fade; he had sold me a laptop, one likely fitted with a tracking chip that would be well hidden. I was an idiot.

Michael was no longer smiling. His twinkling blue eyes had taken on a flat lifeless quality. "Now that we've got that little detail out of the way, let's turn to business." He reached out a wrinkled hand and gripped my chin tightly. His hand was soft, warm and made my skin crawl. I bared my teeth in a grimace, unable to pull away from him but desperate to distance myself from the now darkly intimidating man. "Are they treating you well? I wouldn't want my guest of honour uncomfortable." I hissed under my breath as Michael examined me, like a prize ewe. His eyes scanning the numerous marks his lackeys had inflicted on me.

"Why am I here?" Even though I wanted nothing more than for this man to leave me alone I took advantage of him being the first person to hold any lasting conversation with me. He dropped my chin and gave me his flat eyed stare.

"You're here as leverage Morgan. You've proven a difficult adversary but I won't let you stand in our way any longer." He shifted, resting his forearms on his knees and clasping his hands. "I'm truly sorry to have to do this, you would have been an invaluable asset to us. Unfortunately your stoic friend has gone against my demands and run off with the child." My heart stopped beating. 47 had Seren? If Michael noticed my sudden change in demeanour he didn't let on. "I asked him to bring the girl to me and he decided your life was not important enough to oblige. So I am afraid I have to take something from you now as promised."

Michael straightened up, rolling up the sleeves of his checked shirt as he did. My mind didn't process what he was saying to me, it was too busy focusing on the detail that 47 had Seren, and Cicada were after her. I was vaguely aware of my captor moving round behind me and undoing the bonds tying my hands together. As soon as I felt the tension release from my arms I made a feeble effort to keep them free, but with the lack of blood running to them plus my weakened state, I was barely able to fend off Michael for more than a few seconds.

"Now, now darling. Let's not get feisty shall we. You don't want me to bring anyone else into this do you?" His voice was like smooth honey as he brought my hands round in front of me, and bound each of them to the arms of the chair so I could now see them. I glared at him but there was no threat behind it, what could I do? Tied up, beaten and half-starved, I wouldn't get far even if I could escape. Michael smiled at me again as I stilled, allowing him to tighten the cable ties around my wrists. "That's what I thought."

He took a step away from me, as if examining his handy work, then let out a deep, theatrical sigh. "I don't usually like to do this sort of thing, but seeing as I was hoping you could help us I thought I'd be the one to do the deed." I frowned at him, unsure where he was going with this. I wasn't going to tell him anything now that I knew Seren was involved. I wished silently for him to just get on with whatever it was he was here to do. He reached into one corduroy pocket and produced something metal. It wasn't until he had taken hold of my right hand with a vice like grip and slid the contraption onto my little finger that I realised what it was. It was a cigar cutter.

Despite my already steely resolve I couldn't stop my eyes from widening at the sight of my finger trapped in the mouth of the sharp cutter, my blood running cold as it pumped wildly around my body. Michael fixed his gaze on me, I could see his pale watery eyes darkening with a detached malice in my peripheral vision. "I'm going to ask you one question Morgan and if I think your answer is beneficial I might consider sparing most of your finger."

My throat was drying up as I kept my eyes on my little finger. No matter what happened now I knew the eventual outcome of this scene. It was a strange feeling knowing a part of me I never thought I'd have to worry about was about to be taken from me. Michael continued in his creepily gentle voice.

"Do you know where your agent might have taken the girl?" I stared stubbornly at the cigar cutter, the sharp edge of it resting lightly on the last knuckle of my finger. I pressed my mouth firmly together as sweat began to bead on my forehead. Michael waited for a moment giving me a chance to answer him but even if he cut all my fingers off and everything else I had, I still wouldn't break. I would keep them as safe as I could.

There was another light sigh and I could see him shaking his head. "Have it your way. We'll find them eventually, we always do. We found you after all." I swallowed again and tried not to let my hand shake too much as he tightened his grasp on my right hand and the cutter. The suspense felt like a weight on chest, I had intended to watch as a defiant fuck you but at the last second I squeezed my eyes shut.

The first thing I felt was not pain but pressure. A cold, crushing pressure that dug into the bone of my finger. Then I heard the snap and the pain came, like an unstoppable wave and I knew I wouldn't last, not if he took them all. I tried to hold back the sob bubbling up inside of me but the agony loosened my lips and I let it out, where it turned into a blood curdling scream.

Eventually I had to open my eyes and see what I already knew had happened. Through the blur of my tears I saw a torrent of red and a chilling blank space where the end of my little finger used to be. The sight almost made the pain increase; if that was even possible. I tried to move my fingers and a flare of pain shot up hand as the bloodied stump that used be my little finger protested.

"I'm very sorry but this is your partner's fault. I want you to remember that." I forced myself to look away from my maimed hand and at Michael who was now holding the cigar cutter in one hand and my finger in the other. He stared down at me, his expression a blank mask. I had seen that face before, many years ago in an abandoned slaughter house in Serbia. But instead of a notorious gangster tied to the chair, it was me. "Someone will be in to patch that up shortly, can't have you bleeding to death just yet."

Michael turned on his heel, still holding my severed finger as it dripped a trail of blood behind him to the door. I watched him leave then turned my head back to my ruined right hand and let the sobs take over my body. The hot tears ran down my cheeks and mercifully distorted my view of the sad stump still gushing blood that used to be my finger.

I hadn't talked, that was the main thing, and they didn't have Seren or 47 yet. Truth was I had absolutely no idea where he would have gone with her, but I prayed it was somewhere far away. _Don't come for me. Please 47, stay away._ The crushing sorrow turned my sobs into gasps as I thought about both their faces. His calm, soothing gaze, his glorious half smile, the way his lips had felt on mine. Her small hand in mine, the way she looked when she saw something new, laughing as Gelert licked at her face. These were the memories I wanted to surround myself with, to swim in, to escape my grim fate.

* * *

 _The sunshine was unusually strong today. It was hot on my face as I turned it up to the sky. A red glow painted the inside of my eyelids as I smiled up at the rare feeling of Summer in the mountains. All I could hear was the soft hum of the breeze in the grass, the far off bleating of the sheep and her high, joy filled laugh bouncing of the hillside._

 _"_ _Unca Rudy, Unca Rudy! Higher!" She demanded imperiously and I opened my eyes, holding my arm up to shield it from the glare, to watch my belligerent Uncle Rhydian throw the three year old high into the air again. She squealed in delight, holding her arms out as if trying to fly._

 _I smiled broadly as I watched the odd pair. His grizzled face breaking into a grin as he caught her effortlessly in his strong hands. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement, the colour a harsh contrast against her porcelain skin. She giggled, looking up at him with her striking blue eyes that she didn't get from me, and I felt my gut twist. The scene was peaceful and idyllic, the only wish I had was that it was a similarly pale pair of arms tossing her into the air, and a matching set of blue eyes laughing with her. But that was a fantasy and it was stupid to dwell on such things._

 _Seren looked at me now and waved her small hand enthusiastically. "Ma, ma, did you see? I flew!"_ _"_

 _I did cariad. Just like a bird." Her smile grew at my response and she clapped her hands together._

 _"_ _I'm a bird, I'm a bird." She chorused, jogging up and down in my Uncle's firm grasp. I felt a swell of love for the pair of them as I saw his doting expression and her adoration as she looked up at his scruffy face. One of her hands shot out suddenly, like a striking snake and grabbed the end of his beard._

 _"_ _Ow!" He barked in shock as she yanked roughly on it. I sprang to my feet in an instant._

 _"_ _Seren! Careful!" I shouted making her look at me, her eyes round and confused. It might have been a dramatic response for any normal three year old getting too boisterous, but Seren was not normal. She dropped her hands, her face ashamed._

 _"_ _Mae'n ddrwg gennyf ma. Mae'n ddrwg gennyf Unca Rudy." I slowly sat back down, my peace momentarily shattered. My Uncle rubbed a hand over his chin then began tickling the girl in his arms mercilessly. She howled with laughter, the moment forgotten._

 _"_ _It's okay blodwyn, just leave me some beard left ok?" He growled at her through tickles. I watched with relief as he put her down and chased her down the hill. It was only a minor blip, but I was sure one day we would both discover how strong she really was. I pushed the worry back down and resolved to enjoy the fine weather. Drinking in the heat I blanked out all the horror and fear I had witnessed in my past._

 _The sun beat down on me and I could feel myself beginning to sweat in the heat. I frowned as the heat began to intensify making me shift with discomfort. My eyes widened as the heat kept rising until it felt like I was on fire. I tried to move and get in the shade but I was paralysed, unable to move my hands of feet, only my head. It grew, and I opened my mouth to shout for help but nothing came out. I was bound and gagged._

 _It was too much. What was happening? The fire licked at my skin moving to one spot on my right hand. I looked down at it certain I would see flames but there was nothing. I tried to move it but it remained stuck in the grass. I tried to move my fingers and then I felt the pain flare as I twitched my little finger. Although there was no little finger, only a stump. Then I was opening my mouth in a silent scream as the green grass turned a vivid blood red under the hot sun._

* * *

I shook the chair as I crashed out of my memory, pulling against my restraints, trying to escape the fire. The memory faded but the heat remained. My brain finally caught up with my sudden transition to consciousness and I became aware of something restricting my breathing. The gag tasted like musty cloth and I screamed against it as the fire hot pain peaked in a horrifying crescendo.

I looked at my stump where the sensation was focused and saw a man gripping my right hand tightly and pressing a white hot piece of metal to the jagged end of my once finger. The smell of burning flesh and blood made me gag against the cloth and I let out another agonised cry biting down on the rag in my mouth. The man didn't look at me as he pulled away, leaving my finger still smouldering, although now cauterised. He roughly removed the gag and left without ceremony. I whimpered as the door clanged shut once more, leaving me in darkness.

This was a horrible place to die, but it was better than the alternative. I prayed again for 47 to stay away, to forget about me. He would look after Seren, I knew it. If that kiss had meant anything then he would do it for me. The pain of my newly cauterised finger started to drag me under, my brain already switching back to its coping mechanism. _Keep her safe. Save her._

* * *

 _"_ _Morgan."_

 _His low voice was like a balm. I let it wrap round me as I struggled to open my eyes. I was in his bedroom, in his house, in Sicily. The sun shone through the fine curtains covering the floor to ceiling windows._

 _"_ _Morgan." I turned my head to locate where his voice was coming from and saw him stood by the window, wearing a pale blue shirt. Just like when I had first met him. I walked over to him sheepishly, the light giving his skin a faint glow. He didn't look real…he wasn't real, I reminded myself. This wasn't a memory this was a fantasy._

 _"_ _Hi." I offered him lamely. Dream 47 smiled his half smile that I never got sick of._

 _"_ _Hi." He responded, his ice blue eyes glinting with humour. I didn't know what to do or say._

 _A well of sadness opened inside of me as the realisation that this was more like a fantasy than I cared to admit. I would never get to see his face or hear his voice if I got my way. Dream 47 must have noticed my change in mood as he frowned._

 _"_ _Are you okay?" He asked and I had to fight the urge not to cry. Not now, don't ruin this Morgan._

 _"_ _Yeah. It's nothing." He didn't look convinced and I tensed in alarm as he stepped closer to me, his hand reaching out to stroke my cheek. My skin felt alive where his palm touched my face._

 _"_ _There is something. What is it?" He insisted. The sadness was gathering in my throat in a tight knot, I could feel my eyes stinging as I looked at his handsome face._

 _"_ _I don't want you to forget me, but I need you to. For her. Promise me." I swallowed, cursing my stupid urge to blubber in front of him. He tilted his head a fraction, as if considering my words. Then he closed what little distance there was between us until his face was hovering above mine. Even in a dream 47 had the ability to make my heart leap into overdrive at his proximity. I blinked up at him as I struggled to hold it together, the tears pooling in my eyes. His mouth twitched into a small sad smile._

 _"_ _You know I can't do that Morgan." He murmured before pressing his lips lightly to mine. I closed my eyes, revelling in the feeling of him kissing me. If nothing else, this was a good false memory to keep. It would be enough to keep me strong; until they were safe._

 _47 pulled away, his eyes scanning my face. "Why are you giving up? Don't you trust me?" I frowned at him, unsure what he meant. Of course I did, I just didn't want him risking himself or Seren for my stupid ass. He'd done it enough already. He wiped a tear away as he waited for my answer. I shook my head._

 _"_ _Of course I trust you…I love you." My heart leapt as the admission finally left my lips. I just wished I could have said it to the real one. He smiled at me in a very un 47 like way._

 _"_ _Good. Then wake up."_

 _"_ _Wha-"_

 _"_ _Wake up Morgan!" His mouth moved, but the shout sounded distant. Like I was hearing it under water. I looked around trying to see if anyone else was with us, but it had sounded like 47. I turned back to him and he had vanished. Then the room vanished and I could feel the dream slipping. I desperately tried to keep hold of it. Clutching it to me like a life vest as I began to rise up out of unconsciousness again._

 _"_ _God damn it Morgan! What have they done to you?" It was definitely him but I couldn't see him anymore. And the voice was angry, not gentle like dream 47. I fought against my brain as the real world started to flood back in. I had had enough for fuck sake, hadn't I had enough?_

The room was no longer dark. The door was open and a light was illuminating everything. My finger still hurt worse than ever, but I was unable to look at it because my vision was blocked by an urgent face and a pair of ice blue eyes.


	29. Chapter 28

**A/N: Hey all, here is the next chapter. It is a little later than planned because I went on holiday and didn't manage to finish it in time. I really don't like rushing stuff, so if these are a little slow it's only because I want them to be as good as I can get them. Thanks for your patience. I'll leave you all to read, review and enjoy! :)**

Chapter 28

"What are you doing here?" I asked groggily. 47 gave me such a confused expression that was so animated for him that I had to stop myself from laughing from the absurdity of it. "I'm getting you out of here."

There was a flash of red as he pulled something out of his jacket pocket. I saw with a jolt it was the pocket knife I had bought him, then I winced as he jostled my bad hand cutting the cable ties holding me down. I lifted my right hand and stared in appalled silence at the remains of my little finger. My hand looked uneven without it, the stump charred a worrying black colour from the cauterising. A hollow sense of loss filled me looking at the unnatural sight.

47 released my left hand, then both my legs before straightening up and looking at me. "Can you stand? You look heavily beaten but largely un-" He stopped mid-sentence and I looked up at him in confusion. He was frozen, his eyes glued on my right hand as I held it in front of me. I took in a sharp breath as I saw the dark expression on his face, his normally cool eyes burning with a deep fury I hadn't seen before. His hand reached out and took my injured one gently, his eyes still burning as he examined the wound.

"They cauterised it." I mumbled as he stared at the stump. I suddenly felt painfully embarrassed and vulnerable, like this one injury would affect 47's opinion of me. His eyes flashed up to mine, the deadly look only increasing in them.

"Can you stand?" He asked again, his voice low and steel hard. Gingerly I extracted my hand from his and attempted to lever myself out of the seat I had been confined to for god knows how long. My muscles were alarmingly weak and unsure as I straightened up, all the while the assassin's gaze was trained on my every movement. I sucked in a sharp breath as I stood to my full height and looked at 47 triumphantly, then my head span, a lightness coming over my limbs until it felt like I was falling through the floor. I let out a small surprised "Oh," as my knees buckled and the ground came up to meet me.

My fall was stopped abruptly by a strong arm wrapping around my stomach, the air knocked out of my lungs as 47 caught me then swung me effortlessly up into his arms. "I guess that's a no to being able to walk." He muttered gruffly, the rumble of his voice shook through me as he held me tight against his chest.

"Why do I always end up being rescued from chairs and carried by you?" I murmured back weakly. I felt his muscles tense as he carefully walked us to the door of my prison, and I tentatively leant my head back to better see his face. He was still wearing that frighteningly dangerous expression and an involuntary shiver ran through me as his eyes flicked down to my face.

"Don't try and joke about this Morgan." I dropped my eyes back down, too tired to fight him and stared numbly at my right hand cradled in my lap. 47 walked us to the door and peered around, it was then that I realised I had absolutely no idea where I was, or how he had found me. I listened for a moment, sure I would hear the sound of approaching footsteps or some kind of alarm. After all, it wasn't as if 47 had been particularly stealthy in my rescue so far. However, there was nothing that I could hear.

"Where are we?" I asked quietly, still unable to raise my voice too much due the immense strain I had placed on it earlier. I felt his eyes on me but didn't feel like looking up again, my head was protesting still and I hadn't liked the thunderous look on his face the last time I had glimpsed it.

"Underneath Denver Airport." He answered tersely. Even though I knew his anger wasn't directed at me I still felt myself recoil at the sting in his tone. Then I registered what he had said through the fog of pain still swirling around my head.

"Denver…Airport?" The place was familiar but more than anything I kept thinking how far I was from Iowa. Had I been out the entire time they had taken me here? I tried to think back to that hotel room and what had happened after the changeling had leapt at me, but my aching head came up blank. I was still blinking in confusion as 47, happy the coast was clear, carried me out of the room and into a dimly lit corridor. Craning my neck I tried to turn my head to see more of my surroundings but the edge of my vision began to blacken. The pain in my head and hand flared dramatically and with a small swell of shame I let my cheek rest against 47's chest and closed my eyes. The steady beating of his heart filled my head and the pain loosened its hold enough for me to hear his concerned voice somewhere deep in his chest.

"Stay with me Morgan." When I didn't respond immediately to his command he gave me a small shake; the motion was subtle but it still made my teeth rattle in my head. "I need you awake. I can't carry you the whole way." This time his tone was gentler, coaxing me back from the precipice I was teetering on.

"Mmhmm." I mumbled as I forced my eyes back open, my chin was tucked against my chest and all I could see was my own body cradled in his arms. "Come on." He insisted. I could feel he had stopped moving and there was the faintest sound of shouting up ahead. "Victoria's started her distraction. We don't have long."

The mention of Victoria stirred something inside me and I felt adrenaline begin to leak into my system as my body registered we weren't in the clear yet. Of course we weren't, we were still underground in Cicada's creepy hideout used for torture and god knows what else.

"Victoria's here?" I asked thickly, as I dragged myself back out of the darkness once more.

"Yes…and so is the girl." My senses lit up like a switch board and I felt the adrenaline turn from a trickle into a flood, sending goose bumps up my arms and my jaw tightened.

"Seren! You brought Seren here?" I was half shouting as my body attempted to launch itself from 47's arms. His grip tighten on me as he glared down at my weakly struggling form.

"Calm down Morgan. I don't have time to explain now, but she is safe." I growled up at him in response as I tried to twist myself free from his suddenly less than gentle grip. But in my current state I might as well have been wrestling a grizzly bear with all the progress I was making. He flashed a glance down the corridor we were in, obviously worried my sudden excitement would alert my captors to my new location. When no one came he let out a heavy sigh and returned his level gaze to me. There was still a raging fire deep in those blue eyes of his, but there was a controlled calm too which he turned on me full force. "Don't you trust me?" He murmured. His voice a steady rumble against my body.

 _Of course I trust you…I love you._

The words from my dream echoed in my suddenly very clear head. My muscles relaxed as I looked up into his patiently waiting eyes and I felt the response from my dream forming on my tongue. But before I could find the courage to breath it into reality there was a loud bang.

47's eyes broke away from mine and fixed themselves on the far end of the corridor which I still couldn't see from the position he was holding me. My heart was racing now; my daughter was in this hell hole somewhere. Why had he brought her? Surely he was playing right into Cicada's hands. The bang had sounded like an explosion and now there was a chorus of shouting and gunfire in the distance. I guessed that was Victoria.

I shook my head, trying to clear it of all my questions. 47 was right, I had to trust him. He had a plan, whatever that might be, and I needed to follow it. He shot me another brief glance, checking me over, his eyes lingering on the stub of my little finger. That deadly fire flashed brightly in them as he held me tight to his chest so I couldn't struggle anymore and he moved off down the corridor at a quicker pace.

With adrenaline now coursing through my veins, my body felt light as if it was floating, the pain that had all but crippled me moments before was forgotten. I had no idea where we were going but I knew I was being carried into a warzone and my brain had kicked into fight mode. 47 was now almost sprinting down the corridor although I could only tell by looking at the bland grey wall blurring past. It felt little different to walking with how smooth he ran. He had taken a few turns already, although how he knew where we were in this odd maze with no landmarks or signs of any kind was a mystery to me. What even was this place? I hated not knowing, it went against everything I had been trained to do. I felt helpless, and I loathed it.

Finally 47 slowed to a walk and I could make out doors dotted here and there along the corridor. The shouting and gunfire was louder now and my stomach clenched at the thought of Seren being anywhere near that horrendous sound. "I need to put you down now Morgan. Do you think you can stand?"

I nodded, not trusting my jangling nerves to talk, and with heart-wrenching gentleness he lowered me slowly to the floor. His face hovered inches from mine as he kept a steadying arm wrapped around me, letting my feet connect with the floor. There was a moment of light headedness and I gripped his tie with my un-injured hand, holding onto it for support. His ice blue eyes were locked onto me as he carefully extracted his tie and pulled away, assessing my balance as he did.

I swayed there for a moment, unsure whether my legs would fail and crumple beneath me, then my head stopped threatening to float away from my body and my vision cleared. I was still unsteady and certainly not ready to run, let alone fight, but I gave 47 a fiercely determined look. "So what's the plan?"

He raised his eyebrows at me and shook his head. "No Morgan. You're staying here. I'll come and get you when it's safe." Despite my less than ideal state I felt a wave of indignant anger flow through me.

"No way. I'm not just going to wait for you like some damsel in distress. You brought my daughter here and I'm not going to let them take her." 47 gave me an irritated, sideways look then let his breath out in a rush between clenched teeth.

"Fine. I really don't have time to argue. Stay behind me and stay close, understand?" I frowned up at him as he glared back at me, drawing his silenced pistol from inside his suit jacket. He was treating me like I was all new to this; I had proven myself capable before, although my argument was less strong due to our current predicament. Still, I huffed in frustration as I wobbled unsteadily to my position behind him. He gave me another steely, disapproving glance then moved towards the door in the corridor where all the commotion was coming from. I did my best to walk as normally as I could, but the strength in my legs was minimal. Placing a steadying hand on the back of the assassin I leant around him as he pushed open the door carefully.

My senses were overwhelmed by the chaos that greeted us on the other side. It opened up into a large room which was filled completely with server banks; thousands of twinkling lights blinked inanimately at the battle raging around them. There were men running in between the columns, some brandishing guns and some clearly running for their lives. They paid no attention to us as we entered the giant server room and I soon saw the reason why. In the far corner of the room there was the unmistakable flicker of orange that signalled a fire was present, if the sight wasn't enough then the taste of acrid smoke filling my mouth proved it just fine. I glanced around as I kept one hand on 47's back, letting him guide me through this overwhelming maze of servers and shouting people. The loud retort of a gun going off made my senses jump to attention, but I was unable to do anything without a weapon or a working right hand.

We were moving around the outside of the room, I could see 47's attention focused on the people running through the servers, their priority clearly on the fire spreading in the room not the two people hiding in the shadows. We were half way round the room when there was another round of gunfire followed by a loud crash as one of the server banks collapsed, toppling over onto its neighbour. 47 froze where he was and I followed suit, pressing myself up against his back as he scanned the commotion. He looked briefly over his shoulder at me, then levelled his pistol at the fallen bank as a dark figure appeared from behind the destruction.

I felt his whole body tense beneath my hand then before I could register the threat at all it had relaxed and he was lowering his pistol. I took a harder look at the figure who was examining their handiwork and saw they were slight and decidedly feminine looking with piercing green eyes that turned towards us as we stared at her.

"Victoria!" I couldn't help exclaiming as she moved quickly over to us. She gave me an uncertain look as I clung like a limpet to the back of 47 before turning her gaze to him.

"The fire has drawn a good amount to this location, most of the exits should be clear now. I've dealt with some of the armed personnel already." A shiver ran through me at the detached way in which she spoke. She was wearing all black and her long, dark hair was pulled back into a bun. She looked ready to fight; a machine built for killing, much like the man I was now clinging to and I couldn't help feeling out of place.

"Good work. Go and get Seren then meet us at the agreed point." My ears pricked up at the sound of my daughter's name coming from his mouth. He had always made of point of calling her 'the child' or 'the girl' when referring to her, only calling her by her name if he wanted to manipulate me. This wasn't one of those times; he had no need to manipulate me or Victoria for that matter, not that the name would have the same effect on her. It had sounded natural, almost unconscious when he had spoken it. What had happened in my absence to cause such a change? A small glimmer of hope started to take root in my chest before Victoria's voice snapped me back to the situation at hand.

"Understood. I'll contain the fire to give you more time to escape." 47's deathly quiet response made my stomach clench involuntarily.

"No. Let it burn." Victoria raised her eyebrows and took a small step back. I couldn't see the assassin's face but I was sure I knew the kind of expression he was wearing just from her reaction. His voice had been laced with that same deadly fire I had seen in his eyes when he had noticed my missing finger. It held the promise of death, but for whom I wasn't sure yet.

Victoria recovered herself and gave 47 a curt nod before turning sharply on her heel and disappearing into the lines of server banks. "Shouldn't we go with her?" I asked quietly as 47 continued our circumnavigation of the room. He didn't slow or even turn to look at me as he replied.

"No. We would only slow them down." I felt the sharp sting of hurt as the double meaning in his words sank in. _I_ would slow them down. But I suppose in a very logical sense he had a point. The roaring of the fire in the corner of the room was increasing as the blaze spread, causing more shouts to erupt and people to emerge from the aisles of cabling and blinking LEDs.

"Quickly, bring that extinguisher!"

"Holy fuck, is that Reynolds. I think he's dead."

"Don't let it get to the main server system!"

I felt a sense of satisfaction at witnessing, what would likely be, a devastating blow for Cicada's operations. I obviously had no idea what was on these hard drives but I had a feeling if they were this well-hidden and setup this elaborately, it had to be important.

47 stopped finally beside a door with an electronic keypad. I frowned as I peered around his shoulder, wondering how he was going to deal with this without me in control of the building's security. His shoulders moved slightly as he reached into pocket for something, I strained to see as he position that something in front of the keypad and held it there. There was a pause then the door emitted a faint click signalling its newly unlocked state. Without a backward glance towards the chaos he had created 47 slipped through the door and I followed close behind.

"What was that?" I whispered, as we stepped into our new, and decidedly less noisy, environment. He flicked me an annoyed glance, and I was reminded how much he begrudged me in the field with him. I was a distraction. A spike of my own annoyance shot through me, but the pain I was still feeling was sapping my energy and arguing didn't feel like the best option right now.

"It is an ICA issue decoder. Not much use against more advanced mechanisms, but perfectly serviceable here." I frowned at the back of his head, choosing to focus on his barcode tattoo as it was the main defining feature there. He seemed to feel my stare as he continued talking in a low voice. "I know it's hard to believe, but I did complete contracts independent of your technical skills before."

With no further discussion he began to stride off down the empty corridor we were now in. This place was like a rabbit warren, yet 47 never broke step as he passed numerous doors and passageways feeding off this one. How did he manage to look like owned the place? I did my best to keep up with him, my legs still threatening to disappear from under me.

As we marched on down the seemingly endless maze of corridors, I replayed his last comment to me. What was going on? There had been edge to his voice as he informed me that he was more than capable without me. I knew that damn it, but why was he pointing it out at a time like this? I didn't say anything as we hurried through the bowels of Denver Airport. If we got out of this I would ask him then, but right now my thoughts drifted to Seren and a certain finger stealing person who might still be here.

My sides were beginning to protest to this surge in physical activity when something caught my eye down one of the many tributary corridors. I jerked to a halt and stared at the sign illuminated dimly at the end of the corridor. It was the only one I had seen and as such had instantly attracted my waning attention.

 _Control Room_ , it read in bold letters. A small light flickered in the back of my mind and I suddenly felt the irresistible urge to see what exactly this room was controlling. 47 hadn't noticed my abrupt absence and had continued walking down the corridor we were in. He got about ten feet away from me before he went rigid and swivelled on the spot, his eyes flashing from side to side searching for his missing shadow. They settled on me finally and he was by my side in a heartbeat, his expression clouding over as he stared down at me. "What are you doing? We need to get out of here." I didn't respond, choosing instead to point towards the intriguing sign. His glacial stare shot in the direction I was pointing then back to me in what felt like a fraction of a second.

"So?" He asked abruptly.

My brow shot down into a glower; what the fuck was his problem? One minute he was all concerned and carrying me gently in his arms, the next he was snapping at me and treating me like I was an idiot.

"So, we're in the possible headquarters of Cicada. You know, the organisation we've been trying to take down since I became your handler. There's a good chance we could finish this right here, right now." I held up my right hand so it was directly in his line of vision, his expression darkened further if that was even possible. "Not least because the guy who took this from me also happens to be the leader of this band of motherfuckers." Nope, I was wrong, it could darken further.

"Really?" His voice had an artic edge to it as he directed his attention back towards the sign.

"I want to get of here, believe me. But if there's even a chance we could catch this guy and end it….I think it might be worth it." He didn't look at me, his focus was now solely fixed on the door at the end of the corridor.

"Victoria will be safe with Seren. We'll meet them as soon as we're done here." He had spoken in such a low voice I wasn't certain he had been talking to me. This suspicion was increased when, without a single look my way, he moved off silent as a ghost towards the control room. I gathered what strength I had left and hobbled after him. The chances of Michael Horton still being here were slim, but even slim chances were better than none.

He was pressed against the door, his pistol still held ready in his hand. After a moment he opened the door with exaggerated slowness. I could hear my excited pulse in my ears, if we could tear them apart it would all be worth it, even losing my finger. We would be free at last; Seren would be free. I only hoped the room lived up to its impressive title.

It was empty of people anyway, as 47 finished assessing through the small crack in the door and pushed it wide open for me to see inside. My insides clenched; a little in excitement but also in fear. The room could have been lifted straight from NASA's mission control it was so alike. The floor sloped down from where we stood, lined with curving desks with numerous computer screens perched on them. They were tiered so everyone sat at them would be able to see the three impressively giant screens which drew your eye as soon as you walked in. They were on the far wall, and although there wasn't a soul in sight and all the computer monitors were blank, these were very much on. They were all showing an array of images, broken up into smaller boxes, from this distance I couldn't quite make out what any of them were but I had seen enough of the unsaturated footage before to know they were all CCTV cameras of some kind.

I swallowed as I took in the room with round, disbelieving eyes. "Yeah, this is definitely a control room." I murmured, as I squeezed past 47 and moved further into the room. The assassin's eyes burned into the back of my head as I walked down the sloped walkway, taking in the size of it all. This certainly _looked_ like the headquarters of a powerful, secret group of hackers. So why was it empty?

Dread crept up my back like a spider. I clenched my fists as I descended towards the three colossal monitors, ignoring the throbbing pain in my right hand. It wasn't just the absence of any people in the room, the silence pressed in on me, increasing the feeling of dread now making its way up my neck. I stopped halfway down the walkway and craned my neck to look up at the thousands of flickering images on the three goliaths. From this distance I could make out what I was looking at and it was indeed a multitude of CCTV images. I scanned them, trying to see a correlation, then a cool voice from right behind me sent me twelve feet in the air.

"Those are government offices." Twisting my head to see 47 stood inches behind me, I tried to get my heart rate back to an acceptable level. I was used to his soundless approach by now but for some reason in this place it was just infinitely more creepy.

"How do you know?" I eventually asked, a little breathlessly. He studied the wall of moving images for a moment before pointing at one particular in the lower corner of the screen nearest us.

"That's the oval office." He said, not a trace of doubt in his voice. I stared at the image he was pointing at and felt my breath catch in my throat. Once you looked at it closely it was obvious where the room was; a large formidable desk backed by imposing windows with long, dark curtains and the symbol of an eagle holding a branch of some kind and a load of arrows on the floor. That was the actual white house. Holy shit.

"And that's the office of the French president, and the British Prime minister and the head of the UN." 47's cold monotone listed off the rooms belonging to the various leaders of the world as he pointed his long pale finger at each in turn. I felt the blood draining from my face in an effort to match that luminescent hand floating in front of my vision. My eyes scanned the other innumerable images, there were far too many for them to all be leaders of countries, and found that my suspicions were correct. Bringing my hand up to join 47's I pointed at a small square on one of the screens.

"That's the CEO of Atel the internet provider and there's the CEO of one of the most popular social media sites." I let my hand drop down, a heavy weight pulling at my stomach as I did. "This is practically everyone with influence in the world, windows into all their most secret dealings. This is true power." A shudder went through me and I could feel the pressure of 47's silence behind me. Evidently the gravity of our discovery was not lost on the stoic assassin either.

"Beautiful isn't it?" A familiar soft voice interrupted our silent evaluation. My head snapped round to where the source of it was sitting in the very back of the control room, behind one of the computer monitors. I already knew who it was just from that eerily gentle tone, my stump throbbed as if in agreement, but the blue light coming off the monitor in front of him lit up his face just enough for me to be certain. Michael Horton, small business owner and leader of Cicada, stood smoothly and regarded us from his high position with cool, assessing eyes.

"Depends what you mean by 'beautiful', but its definitely something, I'll give you that." Michael didn't respond to my sour words. He stood there watching us, a small smile playing across his lips.

"I am impressed you know. I knew you were the best but I never thought we would get to this point. I'll confess, I'm really rather excited." I saw 47 shift minutely out of the corner of my eye, then the crackling intensity of his stare reached even my senses. Although it was most certainly not directed at me.

"You?" He hissed, in a voice that made all of the nerves in my body stand to attention. I straightened my stance involuntarily, my brain preparing to flee from the danger it had perceived next to me. Michael didn't react in the same way. To the contrary, he looked delighted with 47's sudden revelation, beaming broadly as if greeting an old friend.

"Why yes of course. We haven't been properly introduced. I run the show here as they say. Although there are many heads on this particular hydra, you can consider me the original head." He began to walk along the line of desks where he was, his hands placed casually in his pockets as if he was out for an afternoon stroll. "I am sure your lovely partner there has told you she met me. It was quite…unforgettable." He threw me a grandfatherly smile and I felt like throwing up.

The temperature dropped rapidly, and even though I was throwing a pretty impressive glare in Michael's direction, nothing compared to the thunderous expression now on my companion's face. It reminded me of the time, all those years ago, when I had discovered 47 wasn't all he claimed to be and he had confronted me in a particularly cramped dark room. It was the look of a killer out for blood.

Michael had reached the sloping walkway now and ignoring 47's murderous stare he calmly walked towards us. _What is he doing!?_ My brain screamed. _Can he not see the furious assassin stood next to me?_ It appeared not, as the elderly man continued his nonchalant approach, that sickeningly easy smile still plastered on his face. There was something oddly terrifying about the friendly, calm man that made my body want to back away from him more than anyone staring me down with a loaded gun. It probably had something to do with the sheer confidence and power radiating off the unassuming figure.

"Shall I walk you through my masterpiece?" He asked conversationally as he came to a halt a few feet from us. I saw 47's finger twitch on the trigger of his pistol which was held limply at his side. A lance of cold fear shot through me; somehow I thought all out violence with this particular man would not end well for us. _Please keep your cool._ I silently pleaded with the man stood next to me. Something I thought I would never have to think in a million years.

A small breathy sigh escaped my lips as I watched 47's hand relax. Obviously his thoughts were on the same wave length as mine. "I think we figured it out adequately." He replied in an icy tone. If looks could kill, was a term that couldn't have applied more thoroughly to him at the moment.

"Oh but I don't think you have." Michael once again didn't seem to notice, or care about, the metaphorical thin ice he was currently standing on. His watery eyes glittered with excited pride as he clasped his weathered hands together. With one more step forward, which made 47 tense like a drawn bowstring, he gestured to the three gigantic monitors in front of him. "This took four years and a near impossible amount of man power to complete. But we succeeded."

He gazed up at the collage of images as if it was his own child, a fierce pride for the monster he had created. "Access to the planet's elite few, those who hold the power in their corrupt, dishonest hands. Some are now in our employ, some…not so much, but we can see and hear it all from this very room. The heartbeat of the world." He turned his gaze, somewhat reluctantly, from his creation onto us. I could feel my own heart beat increasing as the scale of what he was saying sank in.

"This is how you did it. You hacked into all their lives and manipulated them from the shadows." Michael's warm smile grew, his eyes twinkling with glee. The bile rose in my throat at the memory of that same smile right before I had lost my finger.

"Very good Morgan. You have a gift." He sighed, a sadness creeping into that seemingly open face. "It's such a shame really, that you had to throw your lot in with the ICA. You could have been something great among us." Anger lanced through the fear I was feeling, making my jaw tighten until I felt my teeth protest.

"And what," I hissed through my clamped jaw, "makes you thing I would have wanted to do this?" Michael raised his eyebrows. Genuine surprise written across his wrinkled face.

"Maybe I spoke too soon. We have told you before. For the equality and freedom of everyone on the planet, not just the chosen minority. The power over many cannot be held by the few."

"Yeah you might have mentioned it somewhere, but that is just a front. A way to get gullible people to follow you and give _you_ the power." Michael shook his head, his expression that of a head teacher lecturing an ignorant student.

"We hold no power here." He murmured, his gaze condescending.

"Then what do you call this." 47 had been silent for so long that his sudden interruption startled me. He had relaxed his muscles enough to be able to sweep his free hand out and indicate the monitors. Michael threw him a languid glance.

"I call this accountability." He answered, the warmth leaking from his voice as he regarded the assassin. "God fearing people commit less acts of deceit and depravity because they feel the eyes of their Lord on them. We're just giving people without a religion someone to fear."

"Greetings pilgrim, the path lies empty; epiphany seeks the devoted." The words were out of my mouth before I could register them. Michael's attention snapped back to me with lightning ferocity, his smile reaching new heights of beaming.

"Exactly. You see Morgan, the answer was always right in front of you, and yet you chose not to trust us and instead joined an organisation hell bent on tipping the course of history in favour of the wealthy." I frowned then.

"The ICA is neutral. It sides with no one." The old man tilted his head, his eyes narrowing behind his thick rimmed glasses.

"Do you really believe that?" He turned to 47. "Do you?" The assassin said nothing, only narrowing his eyes in return.

"That's what I thought." Michael stated, satisfaction in his tone.

"Wait, I don't believe that. They never judge, they only take contracts-"

"From the wealthy." His interjection made my mouth snap shut and I glared at him. Then his words took on meaning, and that meaning sank in, and I felt the blood drain away from me completely until I was numb. "How much is it to take a life? 10,000? 20,000? more than most people can pay am I right?" The numbness was spreading until I could feel the cool, icy hand of it wrapping around my heart. "What is it your mentor always told you during training? Ask no questions, only if they can pay." His voice was now as cold as 47's. A deadly glint entering those watery eyes.

"You would make the price of human life lower?" My eyes found 47 as he stared at the old man, his voice taking on that deathly hush I knew meant business.

"Of course not." Michael snorted. "I would not serve those who have proven to be dishonest or less than compassionate to others."

This time it was 47's turn to snort. "That doesn't leave many clients." Michael's eyes narrowed to slits and his demeanour hardened so he was nearly unrecognisable to the familiar old man a few moments ago.

"Precisely my point 47. But the agency has kept people like that in power for decades, helped along by yourself and your handlers." His eyes swept to me and I felt my back straighten under his glare. Hostility I could deal with, it was the chumminess I couldn't stomach.

"It's not just the agency, there are far worse organisations than them." I shot at him, determined to defend my own conscience as much as the ICA's. Michael gave me an imperious look.

"Oh I am sure of that, however, don't forget I know what the ICA did five years ago, and more importantly _what_ they created." I flinched at that. There was no escaping the little fact of cloning child assassins for personal gain. I glanced at 47, his face was still as terrifying as ever but I saw the muscles in his jaw twitch slightly at the comment.

"The very things _you_ now control." I almost punched the air in triumph as 47 countered the old man's accusation. _Take that you self-righteous prick!_ But Michael didn't look defeated; on the contrary, he looked pityingly at us.

"I really thought you two of all people….well, it cannot be helped. We are where we are." My frown deepened, what did that mean? Before I could process it any further however, Michael clasped his hands in front of him and regarded us with the eye of a businessman. "Onto the matter of what I am going to do with you now you are here and have seen my little wonder." I flicked a speculative look towards the monitors; little was not the adjective I would have used but whatever.

"Indeed. What _are_ you going to do?" 47's voice had reached new levels of freezing as his finger twitched once more on the trigger of his pistol. Michael threw him a cursory glance, how could he be so blasé about the barely concealed rage seething beneath the surface of 47? Something wasn't right.

"Well, as far as I can see, whatever I want seeing as I have a certain little girl locked up with her baby sitter somewhere in this facility." My heart stopped beating, and the numbness that had been rooting me to the spot left my body as quickly as the cold fury that flashed through my veins to replace it.

"What did you say?" Michael's eyes flashed with something sinister and my ruined stump of a finger sent a stab of pain through my hand in response.

"You didn't honestly think keeping her trapped on that farm was going to do any good did you?" My blood boiled. He had Seren, but how? I shot 47 a withering look. I had trusted him, but the venom I intended to hurl at him with my eyes shrivelled and died when I saw the look on his face.

He looked like death incarnate. A towering pillar of strength and rage sucking the heat and light out of the room all at once. His muscles were tensed, his limbs looking like they were carved from stone; all except his finger, which had now curled dangerously tight around his trigger. The shock of his reaction almost jolted me out of my own deadly fury, but I soon recovered my composure and turned my burning gaze back to the old man.

"I'd recommend you let them go." 47 voice filled the room even though he had spoken not much louder than a whisper.

"Now why would I do that? I have her and can give the order to dispose of her if you so much as breathe wrong. Although it would be an awful shame." A red mist began to descend in front of my eyes and I felt the immediate urge to wrap my ruined hands around his neck and wring it until he told me where Seren was. However, I knew he meant what he said. My finger was proof of that, and so I reluctantly attempted to steady my breathing and think straight. My partner, on the other hand, was having an alarming difficult time doing the same thing.

I eyed 47 warily as his gaze darkened to the point where I was certain, if it were possible, Michael would be a pile of ashes on the floor by now. _Calm down, think._ I pleaded once more with him, but this time my words didn't get through. "I do not make empty threats my friend. Drop your weapon or I will deal with the girl like I dealt with your partner."

His arm moved so fast it didn't even cause a blur, one second it was rigid by his side, the next it was up and pointing his silenced pistol straight at Michael's head. "I've been meaning to have a word with you about that, _my friend."_ He growled the last two words and I felt a fearful apprehension grip my heart.

"I'm sure you have. I did warn you. You ignored me so I punished her accordingly." The apprehension grew as 47 took a single, calculated step towards Michael so his pistol was only a few inches from the man's forehead.

"Where is Seren?" I was so caught up in my own panic for my daughter that I was finding it hard to make sense of 47's sudden interest in her safety. However, despite my panic I was still enough in control to know what 47 was doing wasn't a good idea. This man had eyes all over the globe. More than likely someone was watching us now, waiting to see how this exchange went, waiting to do harm to her.

"I'm not going to tell you while you have that thing pointed at me." Michael's voice was low and even. Not an ounce of fear was evident in it. It made my stomach clench in terror, but no matter how much I wanted to I couldn't move or speak. The situation was escalating far too quickly.

"I'll put a bullet through your head then tear this place apart until I've found her." 47 growled, his threat hanging in the air like smoke. Michael's mouth twitched, his eyes remaining hard and unconcerned.

"Shooting me will get you nowhere." He replied smoothly, and I believed him. _Calm down, please, for her. Stay Calm._ I tried to scream the words through the void, desperate to calm a suddenly highly emotional 47. But once again, he didn't hear.

He tilted his head slowly to one side, fixing Michael with his blood curdling stare. Then in his usual cool monotone he uttered two words, "I agree."

Dropping his pistol to the floor he strode forward. There was just enough time for Michael's eyes to widen before 47 was upon him and had grabbed hold of one of his hands. His right hand. Confusion, shock and alarm flashed across the old man's face. Before finally settling on pure terror as 47 took hold of his little finger and slowly held it up in front of him.

There was a pause; a silence so heavy I could feel it pressing down on my shoulders. I was trying to understand what he was doing; I didn't have to wait long to find out. He didn't ask the man anything, he didn't taunt him. He just looked him dead in the eyes before with one swift, precise movement he twisted Michael Horton's little finger and tore it completely off his hand.


	30. Chapter 29

**A/N: Hello all, another chapter, yay! This one was an absolute bitch to write so I apologise for the delay. Thanks to all those who review and favourite, you all make my day and I hope you like my story. You know the drill guys, read, review and enjoy! :)**

Chapter 29

The sound of it was the first thing that reached me. A sickening snap, following by a wet tearing noise that sent a wave of nausea through my stomach. Then Michael let out an animalistic howl of pain that made my ears ring.

My mouth hung open in shocked panic as 47 flung the old man's bleeding finger to one side as if it were a piece of garbage. With narrowed, terrifyingly impassive eyes he continue to watch Michael scream, holding his now crippled right hand in a vice grip. What had he done? What the bloody hell had he done? He had let his emotions get the better of him and now Seren was going to pay the price…just like I had.

For a moment I stood rooted to the spot, my vocal cords as frozen as my feet, then the realisation of what had just happened kicked in with a vengeance. "What have you done?" I yelled, forcing my voice to be heard over Michael's cries of agony. 47 turned his head slowly to look at me, not loosening his grip on the man in the slightest, and fixed me with a cold stare.

"Evening the scales." He replied in an equally cold tone.

"But Seren…he has Seren!" I couldn't help the desperation leaking into my voice as my eyes began to dart around the control room, looking for cameras. They would have been watching, they would have seen what he had just done to their leader. My stomach roiled again at the thought of Seren and Victoria locked away in a room not too dissimilar to the one I had been in. A horrific image of Seren being tortured burrowed its way into my mind and refused to dislodge. Sick with fear and protective anger I stepped forward and gripped the assassin's shoulder. "47, please. We have to find her."

All plans to disassemble Cicada were rapidly disappearing, I just wanted to hold my daughter again and get her somewhere safe. Tightening my grip on his arm I stared up at 47 as his eyes narrowed further, that enraged fire still flashing dangerously in them. What was going on?

His head snapped back around as Michael started to let out whimpering sobs, I almost felt sorry for the old man until I remembered he had inflicted the same pain on me. "If your men harm the child I'll rip off every one of your fingers and feed them to you." Michael's eyes widened at the threat.

"They-they have their orders…I must do w-what is right." 47 let out what I could only describe as a snarl as he gripped the next finger on Michael's hand. The old man whimpered in response but didn't try to get away, in fact he seemed almost accepting of his fate. A cold sense of foreboding started to dampen my initial hysteria. He wasn't going to give in. He would fight to the last for this misguided cause he believed in, and nothing 47 did was going to change that.

I looked around wildly until my eyes settled on one of the computer monitors nearest me. It was a long shot without any knowledge of Cicada's system and half of it currently burning in the other room, but it was as good a chance as any. "This isn't working, let me try." I said, squeezing his shoulder. His glacial eyes found mine in an instant. The desperate panic I was feeling echoed in them. This new emotional 47 was going to take some getting used to. His eyes flicked to the same monitor and instantly his expression became more impassive.

"Fine. But hurry." He replied curtly, still not letting go of Michael. The old man watched as he struggled to relieve 47's grip on his hand.

"It won't do you any-any good. She is safer with us." I flashed him a cold, disbelieving look as I made my way over to the computer. Sitting down, I switched on the monitor; the blue light was harsh in the gloom of the vastly empty room and I averted my eyes from the screen to shield them from the glare. They caught sight of my hands resting on the keyboard ready to work, the absence of my little finger triggered that bottomless sensation in my gut again. I was sure, in time, the horror of my deformity would wear off, however I had to swallow hard to stop the sobs breaking free. Focus on finding Seren first, there would be plenty of time for self-pity when we got out of here.

I returned my attention to the monitor, my eyes having adjusted to the glare, to see a password screen. Taking in a deep breath I was about to start typing when an almighty crash just outside the control room drew everyone's attention. My head whipped round to locate the cause of the disturbance; 47 was still holding onto Michael but his jaw was noticeably tensed. Opening my mouth to ask what he thought it was I didn't get far, the door to the control room suddenly burst open and a man clad all in black combat gear flew backwards through the opening.

"What in the-" I began but the appearance of another figure in the doorway stopped me dead in my tracks. My heart leapt briefly at seeing the familiar pale skin and striking blue eyes, then my gaze settled on the man that she had quite clearly thrown through the previously closed door and the baton held confidently in one of her small hands.

"Seren!" I cried, half in relief, half in accusation. Her eyes found mine and a wide smile stretched across her face.

"Ma!" She called back, then seeing 47 stood in front of me she lifted the baton up, her smile turning triumphant. "See, I did like you said. I disarmed him." She crowed in delight at him.

Slowly, achingly slowly my gaze slid from my proud daughter to the back of the assassin's head. My eyes narrowing until they were barely slits. The death stare I was throwing at him must have been good as he looked over his shoulder at me, as if sensing my quiet rage. He took one fleeting look at my face before quickly turning back to Seren. What had that expression been then? Guilt? Fear?

The man Seren had taken down so spectacularly gave a loud groan and began to sit up. My anger for 47 was momentarily replaced with shocked horror as my six year old daughter strode purposefully forward, a cold, impassive look on her face, and with one confident swing of the baton cracked the man in the side of the head, knocking him out. She stared down at him with an emotionless expression I had seen a thousand times on a certain other someone's face. I looked on with sorrow as the stranger who had been Seren look down on her handiwork, a perfect little copy of the man stood only a few feet from her.

47's cool voice jolted me out of my despair, "It appears your leverage has had enough of your hospitality." He let go of Michael's hand and deliberately pick his pistol up where he had dropped it. "I think it's time we finished this, don't you?" Michael stared at him, clutching his bloodied hand. Even though I could see Seren was safe, there was still a sense of foreboding hanging over me as 47 began to level his pistol at the Cicada leader.

"She will never be safe. We were never the real danger." I couldn't stop the snort of derision escaping me.

"Stop stalling. We don't believe you." I said, glaring at Michael, wanting this to be over.

"Actually, he has got a point." The familiar voice came from behind Seren; Victoria strolled causally into the room, her green eyes flicking to each of us in turn. I could see 47's jaw tense again as he watched her walk up to stand beside Seren. To my astonishment Seren looked up at the older girl and beamed, dropping the baton instantly to place her tiny hand in hers. Victoria looked startled at the contact but didn't pull away, her eyes pinned on me and I saw a glimmer of resignation on her face.

"It seems what I told you was only the beginning." I frowned at her suddenly cryptic comment, she had now turned back to 47 and I could see him watching her intently. "It's a lot worse than I thought."

His head whipped back round to stare at Michael. The old man was watching the exchange with a slightly amuse expression. "Start talking." The assassin growled levelling his pistol at the man's head. Michael sighed, his cool demeanour ruffled by the obvious amounts of pain he was experiencing.

"I'll talk, but only because I want you to know the truth, not because you're threatening me." 47 pressed the barrel into his forehead.

"It makes no difference to me, just start speaking." I could hear the rage fighting to take over again in his voice.

"There's a reason I know the ICA is as corrupt as any modern government or company." At this his eyes slid from the assassin and his gun, to me, to the three large monitors dominating the room we were in. "We see everything. We have people everywhere, and I _mean_ everywhere. Take a look." He pointed, indicating an image in the centre of the far left monitor. Reluctantly I turned to look at it, trying to see where this strange conversation was going and felt my heart beat a little faster as I recognised the office the CCTV camera was showing.

It was quite clearly Diana's office in the ICA headquarters in Copenhagen. I had sat in there many times as a trainee and when I had first discovered Cicada was trying to recruit me. For a moment I couldn't fathom why they would want to monitor a random handler then it dawned on me, Diana wasn't just a random handler anymore, she wasn't even the ex-handler of the agency's top asset; she was the Director of the ICA. But she was also Diana, a woman who prided herself on consistency and remaining discreet, of course she would keep her old office at headquarters even though she was leading the show.

"We don't just see everything, we hear it too. Up until now I thought you were both loyal to the ICA, through and through. But seeing your faces now it's clear she's fed you lies like everyone else." 47 shifted, his eyes narrowing as he analysed Michael's face. The air began to crackle with an angry tension that made me shiver.

"What lies?" he asked, Michael gave him a pained smirk.

"Your ex-handler and, until recently, your closest ally has been lying to you about the changelings." My lip curled up into a sneer as I glared at the old man.

"This is ridiculous. You honestly expect us to believe Diana has been sending those changelings after us?" I gave another snort then felt my pulse drop as 47 turned an expectant eye towards me. "What?! You believe him?!" My voice rose with incredulity as the assassin gave me a sad look _. What the fuck was going on?_ I glanced at the pistol in his hand; my fingers itching to grab it from him and end the string of lies streaming from Michael's mouth. But the look in 47's eyes held me back, I knew him well enough to see he wasn't telling me something.

"Somebody explain, now." I hissed through clenched teeth, my eyes flashing from 47, to Michael and finally landing on Victoria and Seren. The tension was building, but instead of it being 47's anger filling the room, it was mine.

"Diana knew you survived the explosion in Satu Mare. She also knew about Seren and kept both those facts from me for five years." 47 said in a level tone; although I could see a pained glint in his eyes. "If she was capable of that kind of betrayal there's a good chance what he says is true." His gaze snapped back to the man in front of him. "And I intend to find out."

Michael held his hands up, one still dripping blood. "I'll tell you whatever you want, but it might be best if you hear it for yourself." He nodded towards the monitors and gave me a pointed look. I looked down at the computer terminal next to me. Without hesitating I set to work, Michael shooting me the password as I delved into Cicada's system. It didn't take me long to find what Michael had been hinting at. A folder labelled 'ICA Director'. I opened it and selected the only video saved in there.

Instantly two of the big monitors went black, the middle one showing a full size image of Diana's office. It was empty for a second then a woman entered. It was clearly her; her stride confident, her appearance as elegant as ever. She sat down behind her desk and stared at the door she had just entered through. A few minutes later another person entered and stood in front of her desk, his back was to the camera.

"How many have you located this time?" Diana's voice was so clear I had to stop myself looking around to see if she was suddenly behind me. 47 caught my eye, stood just to the side of me, his pistol still pointed at Michael but his gaze firmly fixed on the giant monitor. His face was blank mask, but a muscle in his jaw twitched as I watched him, his blue eyes seeming to glow in the light from the screen he was staring at.

"Three ma'am." The man responded; I didn't recognise his voice but then I had been away from the agency for a long time. Diana shifted slightly in her chair, her expression displeased as she stared up at the man over steepled fingers.

"This is progressing far too slowly. My records indicate there were a total of thirty assets altogether, seven were killed in the explosion, so that leaves twenty two unaccounted for."

"Ummm, twenty three surely ma'am." The man ventured bravely. Diana's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"No. Twenty two unaccounted for and one stolen by one of our handlers." My blood froze in my veins. I felt 47's eyes flash to me but I couldn't take mine off the screen and the woman I thought I knew. "If we are to proceed as planned I need all rogue assets contained asap. The longer they are allowed to exists the riskier it is for the agency." Diana rose slowly from her seat, resting her hands in front of her as she regarded the man. "I will deal with the stolen property, you focus your team on retrieving the others. If we don't get a handle on this soon Cicada will use them to shut down the ICA for good and I will _not_ allow that. I am already using the ones we have to aid in your operation. Although they are operating off the records so not a word to the wider team."

She leant forward, everything about her suddenly screaming 'Director of an organisation of assassins'. The man involuntarily leaned away from her. "Do I make myself clear?"

The poor man nodded his head vigorously. "Yes ma'am, of course. I'll mobilise the team straight away." He turned quickly on his heel and exited her office as fast as he could without seeming rude. The footage froze on Diana's disdainful expression as she watched him leave.

"From the horse's mouth." Michael's voice broke the horrified spell over me and I turned to look at him.

"She was after Seren all along." I murmured, half to myself, half to 47. He was watching me, his face hard but his eyes showing a hint of sadness.

"I can help you." I narrowed my eyes at Michael.

"Regardless of what I just saw I still don't trust you." I spat back.

"My members have been working on a piece of software that can shut down the microchips for good. No internal damage to the subject and no chance of it being rebooted." I looked at Seren, she was looking at the screen with curious eyes. "She would be safe. No chance of anyone taking control of her."

"Why help us now?" 47's question made Michael jump to attention. He smiled weakly at the assassin.

"That's all I've ever wanted to do. The ICA wanted to destroy the changelings, but they have been using them to cling onto life for the past five years. Spreading the lie that it was Cicada." My knees began to give way as the weight of what I had seen and heard in the last minute started to press down on me. I sank into the chair next to me and tried to process everything. Diana had been after Seren all along. But why? She wasn't a threat. Was she? I looked up at my daughter who was still standing, completely calmly, over the body of the man she had knocked unconscious.

"Give us the software." 47 demanded. At least he was still able to function under all this world changing news.

"Be my guest. It is all on the system." I blinked and realised Michael had been addressing me. Automatically I began to search for it on the computer. Finding it in an application file titled 'Operation Befreiung'.

"You'll need to download that and put it in a transmitting device. May I suggest a phone perhaps." I felt myself shiver under Michael's friendly gaze. He still gave me the creeps and I was still sure this was another trap. But that hadn't definitely been Diana, there was no denying that. Suddenly a phone appeared in my peripheral vision and I looked up to see Victoria standing next to me, Seren following close behind. She beamed up at me and I offered the best approximation of a smile back before connecting the phone to the computer and transferring the file to it.

I picked the device up once it was done and held it gingerly. "I don't like this." I muttered to 47 as I opened the software file.

"If it harms the child by all means shoot me. I am a man of my word after all." Michael said and my stump of a finger gave a twinge of pain at the truth in those words.

"Give it here. I'll do it." Victoria said, holding her hand out obviously sensing my reservation. Slowly I placed it in her palm and watched with bated breath as she gestured for Seren to come forward. If this worked, she would be free. If it killed her…well, Michael would be wishing for death by the end of what I had planned.

"Hold still." Victoria instructed as she pushed her ponytail to one side and held the phone at the base of her neck where a small red scar was just visible. She pressed something on the phone and Seren tensed, her eyes turning glassy and unseeing.

"No!" I yelled, half standing, trying to grab for the phone in panic but before I could get to it Seren's eyes cleared. Her usual striking blue returning, the milky film receding as she blinked up at me.

"That felt funny." Seren piped up, her smile unfaltering. I let out a sigh of relief and then felt a wave of elation flood through me. If that had worked the sword that had been hanging over our heads for five years was finally being dismantled. Without the microchip no one could take control of her mind against her will or press the self-destruct button.

"You see. Man of my word. Now you are welcome to go, you are no longer a threat and we will take care of the ICA and Diana." The elation drained away from me and I lifted my head to fix Michael with a cool glare. Regardless of what he claimed, Cicada had done terrible things to me and my loved ones. I could no longer untangle the web of lies that had been constructed around us, both Cicada and the agency were a threat to me.

"Victoria, take Seren and go." 47 said, not taking his eyes off Michael. She nodded and took Seren's hand, giving me an expectant look as she began to leave the control room. I stood slowly and made my way back to the walkway where the two men were standing. I stopped by 47's shoulder and narrowed my eyes at Michael.

"What are you planning to do?" I asked.

"I intend to complete my contract if my handler still wants me to." He answered simply. I watched with satisfaction as the colour drained from Michael's face.

"But…I helped you. The girl is free, I have revealed your true enemy." 47 shrugged, a movement so small only being so close to him was I able to see it.

"I do not trouble myself with politics. All I know is you have caused my handler a great deal of pain and it is only fair I level the score." Michael held up his right hand again, the wound of his little finger looked gory and dramatic in the half light.

"I thought you already had."

"Yes. For that I did. But if I remember correctly you took the life of one of her friends when you first tried to infiltrate the ICA." Michael's eyes flashed from me to 47.

"I did what I had to." He stated. 47 turned his head to give me a sideways look. It took me a second to release he was waiting for me to decide. I glanced at Seren and Victoria's retreating backs; Victoria gave me a brief glance before ushering Seren quickly out of the room. I stared at 47; he stared back with a cool, assessing look but there was something else in his eyes. Uncertainty? I couldn't place it.

I nodded once, feeling my gut twist in hatred at the man who had caused so much pain and suffering to me and those around me. "Do it." I said, and didn't look away as 47 put a bullet in Michael's head.

* * *

"So, what do we do now?" Victoria asked. She was sat on the only chair in the living room of the safe house 47 had brought us to. He was stood by the window looking out at the darkening sky and I was stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, unable to sit still or think straight for that matter. I had put Seren to bed upstairs, our reunion dampened by the memory of the violence I had witnessed earlier.

The silence stretched out and I struggled to keep my hands still. 47 had bandaged my poorly cauterised wound, his jaw tensing every time he passed his hand over the place my little finger should have been, his eyes carefully averted from my face. He had spoken to me very little since escaping Cicada's underground lair and I found myself uncharacteristically shy off him as he glared broodingly off into the distance.

Nobody spoke, Victoria's question hanging in the air like smoke. Truth was I didn't know what to do next; logic dictated that I should take Seren and leave. Starting a new life for real this time, free from the fear of her being 'hacked into' one day. The other, morally determined part of me wanted to give the other changelings the same freedom as Seren. Victoria had already used the software we had taken on the changeling upstairs. I was alarmed to see it was the same one that had attack us on the farm and killed Gelert.

I had stood in the doorway as Victoria scanned the back of her neck, her glassy eyes clearing, her expression softening into one of bewildered confusion. If I had had any doubts that Cicada's software worked this had all but dispelled my fears. The girl's demeanour had changed from tense aggression to childlike terror in a couple of seconds. My mind drifted to the other ones like her, trapped somewhere or killed by the ICA. That thought still felt foreign to me, Diana had been my confidante and mentor throughout my time at the agency and I had only known her for a few years. I glanced at 47 as he remained motionless by the window, wondering how he must be feeling right now about his long time handler and partner.

Victoria cleared her throat snapping me out of my reverie. She was looking at us pointedly, her green eyes flicking between 47 and I. When I didn't respond and he didn't move, she frowned. "We can't just do nothing. She's lied to us all."

At this 47 slowly turned his head to regard Victoria. His face half in shadow from the gloom outside. "What do you intend for us to do? Go against the ICA and Diana and rescue the changelings she has?" His lip curled up at the corner. "Sounds like a fool's errand to me." He turned back to stare out the window, effectively ending the discussion. A low growl came from the sofa as Victoria shot to her feet, her eyes blazing with anger. "It's what she did for me all those years ago. She needs to know what she is doing to those children is wrong. Stand by if you want but I intend to help them." With that she strode from the room, slamming the door behind her.

I winced at the loud noise, certain Seren had heard and was now probably awake. Standing in the same spot I gave 47 a contemplative look. He kept his back to me, his hands clasped behind his back, his spine rigid.

"She has a point you know." I murmured after a very pregnant pause. Despite my motherly instincts screaming at me to take Seren and run, there was the Williams stubbornness refusing to flee anymore. The assassin turned his whole body to face me this time, his cold eyes assessing me.

"You would start a war with the ICA?" He raised one eyebrow at me in his condescending manner and I felt the familiar anger flare up inside me. No matter my feelings for this man he certainly knew how to push my buttons.

"I have started nothing. They-no _she_ is the one that has lied to us and kept us in the dark. If she has been in control of the changelings all this time that means she was the one attacking my farm under the guise of Cicada." I clenched my good hand feeling the hot rage surge through my veins. "Diana was the one who sent all those men after me, including you. She was the one who killed my Uncle." My voice was rising, the anger in me erasing my worry of Seren hearing.

47 stood as still as stone, watching me with an impassive expression. But his eyes…his eyes looked almost sad. I shut my mouth, breathing heavily through my nose as I glared up at him, on the verge of yet another argument. His gaze flicked down to my bandaged hand then back to my face. "I don't like this." He said simply. I blinked in confusion at his odd comment.

"Don't like what?"

"How much you've changed." His statement coupled with the sudden softness of his voice took me aback. I opened my mouth to counter him but found I had nothing to say. He was right, I had changed, but only to survive. The anger inside me was dulled by the stab of hurt in my chest at the meaning in his words. He didn't like the person I'd become.

My face must have reflected my sorrow at his words as he tilted his head, his blank expression melting to show a concerned one underneath. "I have a habit of doing this to the people who get too close." He murmured. His eyes never leaving my face. "Violence and killing no longer affects them like it used to, they become like…well, me." I stayed silent, unsure what to say. Usually I would have shot him down, told him he was just another man not a monster, but this time. Well, how could I argue. I was a killer now. I had practically ordered him to kill Michael in front of me. I had killed countless others under the excuse of survival. Death didn't bother me anymore, it was a part of my life. And Seren's? My eyes dropped from his, the sobering thought flooding my mind.

And now what was I doing? Trying to lead a charge into the very heart of the organisation that had taken my life and ripped it apart. As much as I hated Cicada for all they had done, deep down I think I always knew; it was the ICA that had really taken a block of C4 to everything I loved.

"You don't smile as much." I dragged my eyes back up to 47's face. "When I thought you were…when I hallucinated, you'd always appear smiling. That's what I remembered the most." A funny squeezing in stomach made me grimace, and I could suddenly feel a stinging in my eyes.

"It's not you." I breathed. 47 looked pained. "It's this life, but that's not your fault."

So quick, that I didn't see it until I felt it, his hand was on my cheek, holding my face as if it was made of glass. "I saw Seren kill a man Morgan. Then I taught her how to fight. That's not the response of a normal person." The bottom dropped out of my stomach.

"She _killed_ a man." I managed to choke out as he continued to hold my face. He nodded solemnly, his mouth pressing into a thin line.

"Yes. She was defending me, she didn't know what she was doing." I felt lost and defeated. I had done my best to keep her from becoming what she had been made to be. I had shielded her from violence and the world in vain. I had just wanted a normal life for her and instead she had turned into…turned into him. At least, that was what he wanted me to think; but I knew better.

Surprising myself and him I lifted my own hand to gently touch his cheek. His eyes widened in shock but he didn't recoil. "It's okay. I'll deal with it." I stroked my thumb along his cheekbone and felt his own hand grip my face tighter in response. Letting my hand fall I bravely placed it on his chest just above his heart, I could feel its beat in my palm as I gave him my sincerest look. "But we can't let those other children rot and die where ever they are. They deserve a life too."

He stared at me, an anguished look in his eyes before letting out a small sigh and dropping his hand from my face. I followed suit and removed my hand from his chest, the palm still burning from the feel of his heartbeat. "Fine. We'll do it." Then his look hardened. "But on one condition." I nodded, unwilling to argue with him when he was looking at me like that. "No more killing. Leave that to me…please." That funny squeezing happened again as I nodded. It was probably for the best, the more I killed the less I remembered why I was doing it in the first place.

I hadn't noticed how much the light had dimmed during our intense conversation but now I struggled to see the room around us as the last remnants of day slipped below the horizon. There was a crackling tension between us as we stared at each other. It wasn't angry, it was a strange, unrelenting pull that was hard to ignore. 47 seemed to be wrestling with the same feeling as his eyes burned with a liquid fire I hadn't seen before. The gentle creaking of the door broke through the spell and I leapt away from him as I turned to see a small head poking through the gap.

"Can you read to me? I can't sleep." Seren said. I was about to agree when I saw she wasn't looking at me but at the man stood next to me. I gave him a disbelieving look and saw my own bewilderment echoed on his face. "Please." She persisted, staring balefully at 47. If I thought I had been surprised before it was nothing to my amazement as I watched him give a brief nod as he walked over the little girl in the doorway.

He paused just as he reached her, glancing back at me. "That is, as long as your mother doesn't mind?" I felt a smile tug at the corner of my mouth as I gestured with my hand.

"By all means, go ahead." Seren's face split into a grin as to my continued astonishment she grabbed 47's hand and all but dragged him from the room. As I watched the assassin being forcefully removed I couldn't help but follow, my smile growing bigger. Would the wonders never cease?

It appeared the answer was no, as I stood by the half opened bedroom door listening to 47's rumbling monotone read Dylan Thomas to a delighted six year old girl. The squeezing sensation I had been feeling in my stomach reached my heart and I took in a deep breath as I enjoyed this bitter sweet moment. This was what I had wanted for her all along, but I was afraid my poor decisions might have stopped that from being a reality. Now as I listened to 47 in the place of my Uncle I wondered not for the last time if I was doing the right thing by chasing after Diana.

Then I thought of all those changelings being treated like weapons instead of children, and the face of my gruff, loving Uncle Rhydian paling as his life drained away from him. I clung onto the words 47 was murmuring with an iron fast grip.

"Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

I'd rage alright, until the very end.


	31. Chapter 30

**A/N: Hello all, so here it is. The final chapters of this story. I hope you've enjoyed the ride. There is an extra long special note for you all at the end so for now I will leave you to do the usual...you know the drill right? That's it, read, review and most importantly, enjoy! :)**

47

Chapter 30

They were in Copenhagen. In the headquarters of the ICA.

Even after all the countless countries I had been sent to on their behalf, I had never set foot in the unassuming office building which acted as the agency's base. I felt a certain sense of irony looking down at Morgan's bent head as she stared intently at the laptop balanced precariously on her knees.

"There's a ninety percent chance they know we're coming." She muttered and I cast a glance around the busy coffee shop we were in. We had chosen the most secluded table but I never liked to take chances. Most of the patrons were engaged in their own conversations or electronic devices. No one was paying any attention to the odd couple in the corner.

"What makes you think that?" I replied in a low voice. Keeping my eyes on the crowd by the door. We were a few streets away from the ICA building but that didn't mean we were safe from their eyes. I had worked with them for long enough to know that Cicada had definitely learnt some lessons from the agency.

"Because their system suddenly has firewalls up the wazoo and that certainly wasn't the case a few weeks ago when I got Birdie's file from them." I gave her a speculative look as she continued to tap away at the keyboard. My eyes were automatically drawn to her bandaged right hand; the unavoidable absence of her little finger sending a jagged streak of anger through me. Despite Morgan's usual blasé attitude to everything, I could see her torture at the hands of Cicada had affected her in some ways. There was a distance in her eyes I didn't like when I looked at her.

"Are you going to be able to do this?" I asked her gently, earning me an indignant scowl. I felt my mouth twitch involuntarily, at least her fire was still very much present even if her smile was a rare occurrence. I hoped she would honour her promise to me and not resort to violence unless absolutely necessary. I had planned everything as best I could to avoid such a situation, but this was an extremely risky plan and unknown ground, even for me.

"I'll do it. Just be ready to move when I say." I watched her serious face for a few long seconds before returning my gaze dutifully to the door. If I'd known when I'd met this girl how much she would affect my simple and ordered existence would I have recommended her to Diana? Probably not, but I had been a different person back then, and for better or worse I knew I couldn't live without her hurricane like presence in my life.

Although it wasn't just her anymore; I wasn't sure why but the child had formed an unexpected attachment to me. I had tried to distance myself as much as possible but there was a resilience and intelligence about her that reminded me too much of Morgan. My thoughts briefly flashed to her; she was holed up in Morgan's old apartment here. Far enough away from the danger but still easily reached if anything went wrong. I felt uneasy for a moment, going against the agency wasn't a foreign concept to me, I had done it before. But going against Diana instead of her having my back, that was a scenario I had honestly hoped never to face. I wasn't sure how I would react if I saw her.

"Fucking finally." Morgan's relieved growl focused my attention back on the here and now. I would deal with my ex-handler when the situation arose. "Taking down the security….annnnd, there. You've got exactly five minutes before the system reboots itself." Her eyes flashed up to meet mine. Fiery bronze boring straight through me. My heart jumped unhelpfully as I placed the familiar earpiece in my ear.

"We'll rendezvous at the pick-up point. Stay here." I commanded. Trying to pin her in place with my stare alone. She gave a small smile, her eyes suddenly burning intensely.

"Stay safe." She responded and my heart did another involuntary somersault. I kept my expression neutral, only offering her a curt nod before standing and quickly striding out of the coffee shop. The tall, imposing headquarters of the ICA loomed over the buildings outside. It's glass windows reflecting the midday sun harshly back at me. I squinted at it for a second before moving off on my pre-planned route to the front of the building.

I was going to enter through the main entrance and clear the way from there to the lower levels where Morgan was certain the changelings were being kept. Speed and stealth were going to be essential in this; minimal disturbance with maximum efficiency.

"47 is moving into position, confirm you're ready." Morgan's voice was sharp and direct as it sounded in my ear. I ignored her comment which was obviously aimed at Victoria who was waiting near one of the service doors. If all went as planned my end, she would locate the changelings, neutralise their chips and escort them out of the building with no conflict. In theory it was a simple plan but theory was not something I paid much attention to.

"Four minutes remaining." Morgan reminded me as I rounded the corner and saw the entrance of my target. The headquarters looked like any other office building I had been to a thousand times before. There was no hint it was the front for an international organisation of assassins. My eyes rose from the set of double doors leading to the main atrium, up the length of the monolith of glass. Idlily I wondered which one of those windows was Diana's office but I quickly shook the thought from my mind as Victoria's voice sounded in my head.

"I'm in position."

Walking confidently forward I kept my gaze fixed firmly on the entrance, the flow of apparent office workers swept around me and I scanned them in my peripheral. They were all dressed in monochrome suits and skirts, no one stood out and I blended seamlessly into the stream of workers heading into the building.

The foyer of the ICA headquarters was open with very little in the way of cover. I assessed my surroundings quickly and decided to remain in the throng of people returning from lunch. We approached the set of barriers blocking the way from the reception. There were two security guards posted on either side and I watched as someone ahead of me attempted to swipe in. The barrier lit up red and refused to open. My eyes followed the woman who had been trying to get through as she went to one of the guards and presented an ID badge. The bored guard glanced at it briefly before waving her through an opening to one side.

The next few people tried and the same sequence of events happened. One of the guards let out a heavy sigh. "Whole system must be down, fucking typical." Then in a slightly louder voice so the crowd of workers could hear. "Come this way, the barriers are down, please have your ID's ready."

I moved forward with the herd, making myself as uninteresting as possible. I slipped my hand into my jacket pocket and retrieved an ID Morgan had made for me. As I reached the guard I held my pass up but kept my eyes averted. Doing my utmost to make my posture unthreatening. The guard scanned my ID quickly, already bored with this inconvenience to his routine, and waved me through.

"He's in Victoria." I heard Morgan signal as I passed through into the main part of the building. "You have two minutes left before the system goes back online." She warned us both as I strode purposefully towards the stairs. Morgan had determined that the changelings were being kept in the lower levels of the ICA headquarters by using her previous knowledge of the place. It was the only part of the building without any windows and where most of the weapon testing and other more questionable aspects of the agency took place. There was also a strong concentration of cameras and security down there.

Judging from the blue prints, Victoria would take roughly two minutes to reach the point where Morgan thought the changelings were. I would have the same amount of time to clear the exit route. I walked past the impressive glass stairs leading up and moved towards a door stating it lead to the basement. Opening the door I entered a concrete stairwell, there were two cameras pointed towards the entrance. Removing my silenced pistol I disabled them while they were out of action. The less evidence of our presence the better.

Taking the stairs two at a time, I pushed on until I reached the end of my descent and faced a heavy metal door more suited to a high security prison than an office. The likelihood of Morgan being right was rising as I unbolted the door and pushed against it slowly. It screeched on its heavy hinges and I grimaced as I peered through the gap I had created. Instantly I got flashbacks to Satu Mare. The bare grey corridors were exactly the same. They were always the same.

Throwing the disconcerting thought off I took care of the two cameras I could see looking at me and assessed the area. Two guards in full combat gear were posted near a door further down, they were frowning as they looked towards me and I was running through the best scenario when Morgan's voice sounded in my ear again.

"One minute."

Focusing my senses I stepped confidently into the corridor, pushing the door open with a metallic squeal as I did. The guards looked shocked for a second, then their assault rifles were up and aimed at my head. I whipped my pistol round and made quick, efficient work of them. Stashing their bodies in a nearby maintenance closet.

Continuing on, I rounded a corner and ran into two more men, their eyes widening in shock as I bared down on them. As I was dispatching one with my pistol while holding the other in a choke hold I heard rapid footsteps behind me. Whirling around with my still conscious victim I counted four more men approaching. How had they known I was here? Morgan had disabled the cameras for now and I had been discreet in dispatching the other men. Just as they reached me more footsteps joined them from the other direction. Turning my head slightly, unwilling to look completely away from the new threats, I peered over my shoulder to see six more men.

"Time's up guys. The system is back online." Morgan announced from her thankfully safe location. I however, was in a far more precarious position; feeling the man in my arm go limp I dumped him unceremoniously on the floor and prepared for the less than ideal situation I was now in. Ten against one, in a cramped corridor. I was sure I had had worse odds before, but I was struggling to remember them at that particular moment.

"It's all looking quiet, good job both. I will…" Morgan's voice trailed off as all ten of the guards cocked their rifles. Setting my mouth in a grimly determined line I knew I wasn't getting out of this fight without some pretty major injuries. The only question was how many could I take?

I levelled my single pistol at the nearest guard and slid my finger around the trigger. I heard a horrified hiss in my ear and a low, familiar curse. Then there was a resounding boom and the lights went out abruptly, plunging the corridor into darkness.

* * *

Morgan

I had caused a power cut. That was all I could think of in the split second I had to decide what to do. I couldn't see what was going on, all I knew was that the ICA's security centre had suddenly dispensed fifteen assault guards to the lower level. Our plan had only just been put in motion and it was already going tits up. I wasn't sure if Victoria or 47 was the one who was in trouble, but providing a bit of impromptu cover was all I could offer.

Looking around the coffee shop, where I was still obediently sitting, none of the other patrons had noticed my sudden panic. I let out a shaky breath as I tried to steady my rattled nerves. The ICA's system was extremely complex and I had been lucky to put it out of action for five minutes. Now the fail-safe had kicked in, like I knew it would, I had to be content looking at the surface level intranet which didn't include access to the CCTV. It did however contain access to the power grid's emergency control for the building. All I had to do was skirt around one of those annoying firewalls long enough to convince the system it had an electrical fire on its hands and it had shut down the power.

"There are fifteen heavily armed guards heading your way. I've shut down the power hopefully that's enough to buy you some time." I said in a low voice into my headset. Anxiety gripped my chest as I stared helplessly at my screen of code. I scanned the lines of numbers and letters looking for anything that would signal they were okay.

The everyday chatter of the coffee shop swelled and dipped around me. I had visited this place once or twice when I had lived here for a year. It was funny how places that previously seemed completely innocent could take on a new atmosphere. I felt trapped; penned in by the lunch time bustle. _Stay here,_ he had commanded and I had promised. But with each passing second I felt my resolve slip just a tiny bit. I was no longer used to just staying put.

I concentrated on the laptop again, watching the agency's emergency system trying to work out where exactly the fire was that I had fabricated. All of a sudden a warning started up in the east section of the lower levels. I leant into the screen, trying to decipher what it was saying. Abruptly a very handy translation of the computer language flashed up, clearly trying to alert its human masters.

 _Alarm: Multiple electrical faults detected in containment cell LLE5._

 _Assets at risk: Recommend manual assessment._

My hands tightened on the laptop. That sounded a lot like the place they might be keeping the changelings, which meant Victoria was in trouble. _She can handle herself Morgan._ I chastised, as I stared at the warning message practically willing it to show me what was happening. My nerves weren't helped when another message popped up, this time directed at the security centre.

 _Anomaly detected in containment cell LLE5. Dispatch special unit._

"Shit." I said under my breath as I watched the system send out another fifteen guards. This was not going according to plan. I began to bounce in my seat, unsure what to do next. Given my limited access to the security system, I had done all I could for them from where I was. 47's compromise and earnest plea echoed in my head again but what good was keeping a promise if it was to a dead man.

Making a snap decision I quickly shut my laptop and stuffed into my lightweight backpack next to me. Slinging it onto my back I weaved quickly through the queue gathered around the counter and exited the coffee shop. Without hesitating I half jogged, half ran in the direction of the service entrance Victoria had used. I didn't need to get my bearings, I had walked these streets many times before. As I reached the side door a niggling fear in the back of my mind wondered how 47 would react if he saw me going against his orders. Then I asked myself why I suddenly cared so much when I had never really listened to him in the first place. Something about that desperately sincere look on his face struck an uncomfortable note in me as I cautiously slipped through the door which Victoria had helpfully left propped open.

Inside it was pitch black except for the small slither of daylight from the door and a few emergency lights dotted along the floor. I stood still for a moment, letting my eyes adjust. The silence was the most unnerving thing about the situation. I had expected, with the amount of men being sent to their positions, for the sound of gunfire and shouts to be echoing around me already, but there was nothing.

Swallowing down my nerves I walked as quietly as I could towards the stairs. Heel to toe, heel to toe, just like in the forest. My hand drifted towards the pistol I had hidden in the back of my jeans but I decided against it as I began to descend down into the dark depths of the ICA. I could at least keep one promise to 47, no killing. There were other ways to help.

I had a pretty good idea where LLE5 was, due to me studying the blueprints, however the darkness was proving vastly more disorienting than I had planned. At least it would mean Victoria and 47 weren't at an automatic disadvantage against the now thirty guards that were down here with them. The continuing silence sent a shiver down my spine. You would have thought even if they had evaded them, having thirty heavily armed in the area would have created some sort of noise.

I finally reached the end of the stairs and came to face to face with the reason for the eerie quiet. A large metal door with an impressive bolt lock on it. It looked air tight and more importantly sound proof. With some effort and, a lot of cursing due to my still sensitive right hand, I managed to release the bolt and gingerly pushed the door open.

The sound of gunfire hit my eardrums immediately. My whole body tensed as I tried to gauge where the fighting was, but the bare concrete sent the noise bouncing around making it impossible to tell if it was happening half a mile away or right next to me. I poked my head round the door and was greeted with more blackness, only the dim, blue lights lining the floor created any break in the darkness pressing in around me. I walked forward and felt the door begin to close behind me. Hurriedly I placed my backpack down to stop it from closing completely. Something told me there was no way to open it from this side.

The constant rattle of automatic rifles reverberated around me, then it briefly stopped as I heard a loud crunching sound then a muffle yelp as if someone was clutching their face. A small smile tugged at my lips as 47's continued survival became apparent to me. It would take more than thirty armed men and a bit of darkness to stop him.

Taking out my phone from my back pocket I turned on its flashlight and quickly swept it over the corridor I was in. It was fleeting, not enough to draw attention to my position but enough for me to get a good idea of where I was. Ignoring the sound of fighting as best I could I headed off towards my target, containment cell LLE5.

The noise began to recede into the distance as I walked the dark hallways, doing my best to remember the route I had marked out for Victoria. A few times my heart sank as I came to a dead end and had to retrace my steps but after the third wrong turn I stopped in front of a door labelled 'Asset Containment Room'. If the sign wasn't enough the alarming sound of someone being choked inside was enough to tell me I had reached my destination.

Drawing my pistol as a precaution, I barged through the door and came face to face with Victoria slowly turning purple as a teenage girl held her in a firm choke hold. The room they were in was lit a lot better than the corridor. The strip lighting above still emitting a low light, enough to make out the struggling pair in front of me. My hands shook as I aimed it at the changeling. I noticed her eyes were glassy, but half her face had been badly burnt. Her young features were twisted into the same angry mask I had seen before.

"Let her go." I said, my voice sounding more confident than I felt as I took a step towards them. Victoria's eyes slid to me as she struggled to breath, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. The changeling didn't respond, her eyes simply narrowing as she tightened her grip on Victoria. "You don't need to do this." I murmured, taking another step, the gun still levelled at the girl's head. She bared her teeth as she let out a hiss, I stopped not wanting to push her further. My finger reluctantly wrapped around the trigger as Victoria began to gurgle, her green eyes starting to close.

"Shit." I cursed again. I had promised him and this wasn't just another person trying to kill us, it was one of the very children I was here to save. But watching Victoria suffocate in front of me wasn't an option. I began to squeeze the trigger, the changeling looking at me defiantly when the lights came back on with a blinding flash. I blinked in the sudden brightness and almost missed the lightning fast movement to my right. My eyes snapped towards the motion just in time to see another smaller, changeling coming at me from the side. I had just enough time to whip the pistol round and fire a desperate shot in their direction as they leapt through the air towards me, hands outstretched.

* * *

47

The fight had been confusing enough in the near blackness, the only light coming from the muzzle flashes as the seemingly endless crowd of guards fired at me. Well, more accurately they fired at the place I had been the last time they had seen me in the flashing light of their attack. I wasn't sure how long I had been fighting them in the darkness, time seemed to stand still in the corridor as I felt my way, half through instinct, half though my superior night vision, around the group of men and dispatched them one by one.

However, when the lights suddenly flared back into existence I had to pause for a second to reassess my surroundings. There were bodies lying all across the corridor, it was hard to tell exactly how many there were due to the manner in which they had fallen, but I was certain there were more than ten now. One was still standing, blinking in the bright light, his gun held loosely in his hands. He noticed me at the same time I moved towards him. His gun snapping up to aim at me a fraction too late. I grabbed the barrel of his assault rifle and pulled it forcibly from his grasp. It span off down the corridor and I wrapped my hands around his chin and forehead, with a final violent jerk I snapped his neck letting him fall on top of his comrades.

Taking in a steadying breath I did an assessment of the damage. A few bullets had managed to hit their mark, I felt them as I moved my shoulders. There were a number of tears in my jacket and my tie was half undone after someone had tried to grab it in the blind melee. I readjusted it and dusted myself off. I hadn't heard Morgan since the blackout and an uncomfortable knot was forming in my gut. She had promised to stay in the coffee shop but a horrible part of me suspected she wasn't there anymore.

Not bothering to hide the bodies, stealth and discretion were very much void now, I stepped over them to head towards where Victoria was meant to be. Even after all the guards I had already eliminated there was a chance the path outside was still not clear. Reloading my pistol I walked briskly down the corridor ready for the next attack.

A crackling sound from my earpiece interrupted my focus, instinctually I raised a hand to my ear unsure whether it had been damaged in the fight. Then a clipped tone spoke clearly into my head.

"Good afternoon 47."

I stopped abruptly. The sound of my ex-handler's familiar cool voice making the knot tighten in my gut. "I see you have been busy. Would you kindly stop killing my men for a second, I would like to talk to you." I didn't move. Conflicting thoughts struggled for dominance in my head. I had a mission; to clear the way for Victoria, but Diana knew we were here now and had managed to hack into our frequency. Ignoring her was probably not the wisest course of action. Besides, I thought as I turned to towards the stairs, I also wanted to have a talk with my former partner.

* * *

Morgan

My shot hit the changeling in the leg knocking him out of the air. Before I could take a minute to collect my jangled nerves I felt a strong pair of hands wrap around my throat cutting off my oxygen. The changeling I had hit clambered to his feet and limped towards me, taking the gun from my hands and stepping back to aim it at me.

Black spots danced in my vision as my lungs fought for air. I scratched at the slim hands constricting my throat, but it had little effect. My lungs were on fire now and I could feel my brain shutting down slowly. Just as the black edges of my vision were closing, an unseen force ripped the hands from around my neck. I collapsed to the floor, coughing loudly, the black stars dissolving as oxygen flooded back to my relieved brain.

Looking up I could see the boy with my gun but his focus was on someone else now. That someone dashed into my vision as I watched from the floor, her green eyes flashing as she swiftly disarmed the changeling and held him by the scruff of his neck. In her free hand she produced the phone with the disabling software on it and pressed it to the back of the boy's head.

As his glassy eyes cleared I stood gingerly, supporting myself on my knees. With a shaking hand I retrieved my discarded pistol and looked around for the other changeling. She was stood motionless, her now bright eyes look around as if for the first time. I gave Victoria a small nod in thanks and she returned it with a grim smile.

Now that we weren't being assaulted I scanned the containment room we were in. The bile rose rapidly in my throat as I realised that the two changeling's that had attacked us were the only ones able to move at all by the looks of it. There were a number of children ranging from around 7 to 14 in the room but all were tied to hospital beds and looked in less than ideal condition. Several of them had drips attached to their arms and a few looked all but dead apart from their shallow breathing.

"Holy fuck." I exclaimed as I span on the spot taking in the horror around me. Regardless of what you thought of cloning or breeding children for killing, they were still just children at the end of the day. I had never thought Diana capable of such cruelty, it made me nauseous just remembering I used to work for her.

"I know." Victoria said in an equally disgusted tone. "I was just trying to free the first one when these two attacked me." The boy next to her looked down at the floor, almost as if he were ashamed. The girl continued to stare in bewilderment at her surroundings.

A boiling anger I hadn't felt in a long time began to rise inside me. Striding forward I began to undo the bonds of the nearest changeling. She turned to me with vacant, glassy eyes, her cheeks two deep hollows in her face. She barely moved as I untied her from the bed, her limbs to emancipated to support her. Holding my hand out expectantly I didn't bother telling Victoria what I wanted, it seemed I didn't need to either. She was quickly by my side, placing the phone in my outstretched hand. I could sense her building anger as well, it merged with mine, keeping us in sync as we passed from bed to bed, first releasing then disabling the microchip in each changeling.

Finally they were all free. Both physically and mentally. Some were standing but some were too weak to get up. To my relief, after searching the room we found some wheelchairs that Victoria and I quickly bundled the weaker children into. Once finished we turned to the pathetic looking group of bemused children.

"We're going to get you out of here." I announced in a clear voice. The group looked back at me, confused.

"Where are you taking us?" The girl with the burnt face asked. She was stood in the centre of the dishevelled group, supporting another girl who was slumped against her.

"Somewhere safe. You're free now." Victoria said, her eyes flashing as she looked at the group of children. The girl looked around her, then back to us with a hard expression.

"Why should we trust you?" I took a step forward and gestured towards the boy I had shot in the leg. He gave me a wary look, although he appeared to have recovered quickly from the wound. In fact there wasn't a mark on his leg now at all.

"Because I didn't kill your friend there when he attacked me, and no one else is here to help." We didn't have time for subtlety, we needed to get out now before the guards ended up finding us. The girl stared at me for a minute before nodding once.

"Fine." I breathed a sigh of relief and gestured for the group to follow. We left the containment room and headed back down the now clearly visible corridor. Victoria was pushing one of the wheelchairs while I quickly got my phone out. I didn't have my laptop or headset but I could still access 47's earpiece from my phone. Quickly dialling the number I held the phone to my ear as I signalled for the group to stop. Peering round the corner, the corridor still looked deserted, and more importantly the sound of gunfire had ceased. My heart jolted; either that meant 47 had managed to deal with all thirty men sent down here, or they had dealt with him.

I swallowed nervously as the dialling tone continued in my ear. He wasn't dead, he had seen off worse. But even though I repeated those words over in my head I couldn't stop the rising panic as my phone refused to connect to 47. Finally it let out a piercing whine signalling its failure to get through.

Something was wrong. Even if 47 were lying dead somewhere down here I would have still connected to his earpiece. Something, or someone was tampering with the frequency.

"Diana." I had muttered her name even before my brain had made the connection. I wasn't sure how I knew, but I was certain she was responsible for this. Taking the phone away from my ear I looked back at the band of broken children gathered behind me. Victoria was looking at me with intense green eyes, the changeling in the chair she was holding watching me too with deep blue ones. She looked around eight and reminded me of Seren. As much as I was worried for 47 I needed to get them out safely.

"It's clear." I said, stepping round the corner and signalling them to move. I dialled again, this time I called Charlie. Hopefully he would answer me, otherwise our plan was truly doomed.

"You alright darling?" Charlie's cheerful cockney voice lifted my spirits.

"As well as I can be. You ready?"

"On your mark. How many little ones you got?" I glanced behind at my entourage.

"18."

"Gotcha, I'll be there in five." With that he hung up. Well, at least something was going to plan. Slower than I would have liked we made our way through the lower level towards the service entrance. As we walked the now eerily quiet corridors my mind drifted to 47. He was more than capable of looking after himself, but images of our last conversation kept pushing their way to the front.

 _"_ _When I….hallucinated, you always appeared smiling."_ Whenever I thought about our relationship I had assumed it was one sided, but that comment...and the kiss. He had given them both freely. Did that mean I meant more to him than I thought? A small whimper escaped me as we walked on, losing him now, even the risk of it, was too much to bare. After all we'd been, leaving him alone was not an option. _After they're safe Morgan, after they're safe._

We rounded another corner and I stopped dead in my tracks. I heard the squeal of wheels and silenced footsteps behind me as the group of changelings followed suit. The first thing I saw was the pile of bodies blocking the narrow corridor. They were all guards strewn on top of each other, lying where they had fallen. The pool of blood from their combined wounds was creeping lazily across the concrete floor towards us. It didn't take a genius to know who was responsible for this slaughter. The broken necks and precisely placed bullet holes were enough of a giveaway.

However it wasn't the dead guards that drew my attention; it was the two smartly dressed men stood on the other side of the macabre scene, staring at us, silenced pistols in their hands. These weren't security guards, they were much, much worse. They were agents.

"Step away from the assets and stand against the wall." One of them commanded, looking at me with a calm, cool expression. It was good, I'd give him that, but I had seen better and wasn't easily intimidated.

"I'm fine where I am thanks." I responded, drawing my pistol and levelling it at him. It wasn't the smoothest movement but it was obviously unexpected as the agent's eyes widened enough to show me his surprise. In a lightning fast movement he aimed his own gun at my head.

"There's no way out of this." The other one growled, pointing his pistol at Victoria. We were in a stale mate. They wouldn't risk harming the assets and even if I hadn't made a promise to 47 we were no match for two trained agents. The silence stretched on, the bodies 47 had made forming a barrier between us. A movement by my side drew everyone's attention, the burnt girl stepped forward, her hands balled into tight fists.

"Let us go." She declared, her small voice sounding surprisingly loud in the tense corridor. The agents gave her a funny look before ignoring her. I swept my gaze over the girl, she was hardly in a state to fight. We had managed to overpower her because of her malnourished state, she wouldn't last long against them. The only person remotely capable was Victoria and she was stuck behind a wheelchair right now.

I bit back my frustration as I glared at the two agents. God fucking damn it, we had been so close. I gave Victoria a meaningful look and she raised her eyebrows at me. Slowly I raised my hands in response, the gun held loosely in them.

"Alright." I said bitterly. The agents watched cautiously as I stepped away from the children. I would have to think of another way out of this, I only hoped something would present itself. I moved inch by inch until my back was to the corridor and I was facing the wall. A sudden thud interrupted my racing thoughts, there was a sharp intake of breath then another louder thud, followed by a very familiar crack. Somebody had just suffered a broken bone. Tentatively I turned my head and saw the two agents struggling with a small girl.

I span around in a flash and watched with widened, horrified eyes as the pale, dark haired girl moved inhumanly fast. Taking down the two fully grown men with a strength that seemed unreal. In only a few seconds both of them were out cold, one with a severely broken arm by the looks of it. The girl's ice blue eyes flashed to me and she smiled a nervous smile.

"Seren, how did you…" I trailed off as I looked at my daughter. She was meant to be in my old apartment, how had she got here?

"Are you ok ma?" She asked, her lip beginning to tremble as I continued to stare at her. Blinking I gave her a wobbly smile back.

"Um, of course cariad. I'm fine. Why are you here?" Seren looked down at the floor, her ivory cheeks blooming with red splotches.

"I overheard you talking about saving the children and I thought I could help too." Her sad, ashamed expression was enough to make me sink into a crouch and hold out my arms.

"Diolch Seren. Dewch yma." Her head snapped up and with a beaming smile she stepped over the unconscious forms of the men she had just taken out and the multiple dead bodies next to them, and practically leapt into my waiting arms. I hugged her to me tightly, letting the smell and feel of her blot out the horrendous place we were in. For a moment we were back on the farm and she was just my little girl again. Except the reality was so different; she wasn't my little girl anymore, she never really had been, she was a changeling and had been created for one purpose. It was time to face the fact that she would never be a normal little girl; yes she had a piece of me in her, but she also had a significant portion of 47.

I lifted my head from her hair and looked at Victoria, she was watching us with a sad expression. What was she thinking?

"We have to go Morgan." She said and I nodded, reluctantly standing and letting go of Seren. We were nearly out of this, all of us. I looked at the changelings' worried faces, they all deserved what I had given Seren. A family, no matter how dysfunctional. I tensed my jaw as I made a decision.

"Take Seren and go to the rendezvous." I said, giving Victoria a determined look. She opened her mouth as if to argue but then decided against it. There was a gleam of respect in her eyes as I gave my daughter another reassuring look before turning and walking away from them. I had left him before in Satu Mare, I was not about to repeat my mistakes promise or no promise.

* * *

47

An alarm had been set off in the building causing the occupants to evacuate. I fought against the river of people trying to get out as I ascended the impressive glass stairs in the main atrium. Diana hadn't spoken to me again since I had decided to confront her. Evidently she was watching my progress from her office.

The press of people lessened as I reached the top floor. The alarm still blaring, I walked through the now deserted open plan office. I glimpsed the ICA login screen on a few of the monitors, the only reminder of where I was right now. The uncomfortable knot that had started to form when Morgan went silent began to press down on my gut making it harder to focus. I was sure Victoria could handle her part of the plan, I had killed what felt like the entirety of the building's security guards down there. Even so an ominous feeling hung over me and I had to remind myself that Diana would only concentrate her attention on the lower level if I didn't obey her wish.

I came to a stop outside a nondescript door leading off the office. It looked like all the other bland wooden doors, except for the small bronze plaque on it reading; _Diana Burnwood, Director & Chief Operations Manager._

A small frown creased my forehead as I took in the imposing title. She certainly had come a long way from the woman who had approached me in a French bar. _"You're not alone. Try as you might to make it so."_

If she'd only known how much those words would resonate with me. Ironically it had been her protege that truly made me see the meaning in them, not her. At times in our relationship I had thought maybe she was the only one I could trust, but now…now, she had shatter that belief. Setting my face into a neutral expression I opened the door and stepped in, ready to face the woman waiting for me on the other side.

She was sat behind her desk, her fingers pressed together to form a steeple which she looked over at me with calm, green eyes. "I was beginning to worry. You took your time." She said as I closed the door behind me.

"I didn't know there was a time limit." I stated in a cool tone. Her red lips turned up into an amused smirk.

"Your humour has certainly been improved. Shame about all the other…unfortunate complications."

I stood in front of her desk, the mahogany wood forming a physical barrier between us. Although I could feel the distance in our interaction almost as soon as she had started speaking. Once we had been an unstoppable team; thinking and acting as one on contracts, forming a bond much stronger than friendship. She had been a true killing partner. Now there was a disconnection; an incompatibility. She didn't feel right anymore. I didn't know her.

"I would say you deceiving me has been the biggest 'complication' in recent memory." I countered in an icy voice. Diana cocked her head slightly to one side, her eyes analysing me as she considered my response.

"Are you referring to me lying about the changelings or about Morgan's state of being?" My muscles clenched in anger at the nonchalant way in which she admitted her betrayal.

"Both. But we'll start with Morgan. Why?" I asked, my voice a deadly murmur. She sighed, and looked down at her fingertips.

"Because she's no good for you." I regarded her with narrowed eyes, waiting for her to elaborate. "She has clearly made you emotional. When I met you, you were perfect. A blank slate. Unaffected by the trivialities of humanity, able to kill without remorse or conscience. Then you met her and for some reason she has fascinated you like no other person." Her eyes flashed back up to my face. "You have developed feelings for her 47, and that has made you sloppy. Prone to irrational actions. Human."

The last word was delivered like a slap, the contempt in her voice unconcealed. "Is that not what I am?"

"No. You are more than that. Humans are stupid and greedy. You were meant to be better." There was a defiant anger in her eyes now. "I didn't tell you about her surviving the explosion because I thought it would be better for you. You would accept that everyone dies and that harbouring feelings for anyone is pointless and inefficient." She sighed, resting her hands on the desk in front of her. "Obviously I miscalculated how attached you had become to her by then. I hardly expected you to sink into a drunken stupor." My lip lifted into a snarl as I took a step closer to her desk. She raised one eyebrow at me in response.

"You had no right. She was my partner." I spat, struggling to control the outrage threatening to spill over.

"She was your handler. She knew what she was doing when she joined." I slammed my hands down on the desk between us, Diana flinched involuntarily. Retreating into her chair at my sudden display of anger.

"That doesn't make it right Diana!" I shouted. My eyes fixed on her unreadable face. Had I completely misjudged this woman? "You sound just like my creator." I said in a level voice. I slowly stood back up, reassembling my neutral mask. Diana looked up at me, stunned. I decided to press this particular nerve. "What about Victoria? Did you not act in an 'irrational manner' to save her?"

My former handler quickly recovered, tugging on her expensive dress to straighten it. "I did. But we all learn from our mistakes. She was a lost cause, a result of our greed and hubris. No matter my intentions she was always destined to become the killer she was designed to be. I was foolish to think otherwise."

"You gave up on her."

"No." She snapped back at me, "I tried. But I had no idea of the depth of her programming. I have learnt since then, with the changelings."

Now we had reached the point I most wanted answers about. "The changelings. Why did you lie about them?"

Diana considered me for a moment, assessing me with the detached view of a handler. "I didn't lie, I said they were a problem. I never explicitly said Cicada were in control of them." Her voice had a condescending air to it. I didn't like it.

"But why use them to attack Morgan." Diana shifted in her seat, her expression becoming slightly perturbed.

"I sent them after Seren, not Morgan. I wanted the girl. Cicada always got in the way, disrupting my plans and I wasn't about to tell you my intentions when you were so close to her 'mother'." She said the last word like it was somehow dirty. So she had just used Cicada as a cover for her own plans. The farm, the shopping mall. The changelings had shown up at her bequest but Cicada had taken the fall. I had taken the bait. The thought made my blood boil.

"But why?" I insisted through gritted teeth.

"Because they pose a threat 47." Diana stood from her seat slowly, keeping her hands pressed to the desk. Her expression darkened as she straightened up. "To the ICA. To everything I have built. Victoria was just the warning sign. They can't be controlled, not truly, and if anyone discovered they existed, every government and criminal organisation wouldn't tire until they had created their own. The agency would fade into nothing." Her eyes were now two hard points of emerald. "I won't allow that."

Diana had always been a proud, ambitious woman. She had played the long game to become Director of the organisation that had taken her in. I shouldn't have been surprised she would do anything to keep it alive. In the past I'm sure I wouldn't have cared, in the past I would have most likely aided in her cause. But things were different now, Morgan had shown me what life without the ICA could be, and a part of me long for it. Plus, I couldn't ignore the fact that Diana was condemning these clones to a fate not too dissimilar to my brothers, all those years ago in an asylum in Romania.

"So you use them, dissect them, then destroy them?" I asked.

"They are assets. Nothing more." The last remnants of our mutual understanding dissolved right there in that moment. If she thought that of the them, then she thought the same of me. After all, we were one and the same.

"Evidently we are all just lab rats to you." I said, in a deadly monotone. Diana looked mildly alarmed at my comment.

"We? I didn't mention you 47." I shook my head, no longer willing to listen anymore. She had crossed a line and she could no longer be trusted.

"You'll never stop will you? Even if I told you to forget us, you'll always come after that loose end. I know you." Diana regarded me, her brow furrowing.

"You intend to go off and play happy families do you? Grow up 47. You were never meant for that life."

"Maybe not, but they make me believe I am more than just a killer. It's worth trying just for that." Diana gave a derisive snort and straightened up completely to look me in the eye.

"You're barely recognisable." We stared at each other, not speaking. Then the squawking of the alarm cut off abruptly plunging the room into tense silence. Finally Diana spoke in a calm, quiet voice. "I've sent agents to deal with Victoria and Morgan downstairs."

A jolt of panic shot through me. Morgan was here. I had told her to stay where she was, she had promised me. Diana noticed my reaction.

"This is the problem. You're unable to focus on the task at hand whenever she is involved. This was what I was trying to save you from."

"I don't need saving." I growled through clenched teeth as I tried to subdue the urge to rush to Morgan's aid. If there were agents down there it would take more than Victoria to help her. Diana inched a step to the side. I assessed the movement, my muscles tensing automatically.

"Oh but you do. And the ICA can help you like it did before. Give you purpose again, a simple life, a life where you can do what you were made to do without judgement. Isn't that better than pretending to be something you're not?" I took a step to the side, mirroring her.

"You don't know what I want." I shot back.

"I do 47. I know you better than anyone. Better than _her."_ She took another step and I followed. "The ICA needs you….I need you." Her face twisted briefly into a desperate expression. But as quickly as it had appeared it was gone. Replaced by the familiar aloof look I had grown accustomed to; and it was in that moment I realised I had become tired of all this. The control, the lies, the restraint. Morgan was a lot of things; wilful, stubborn, reckless, but above all she was honest. She had never lied to me. Not really. Whenever there was something she didn't know how to say she would disappear, but she had never actively lied to me or hidden what she was feeling. She had always been unashamedly open with her emotions, wearing her heart on her sleeve and living life by her rules. It was so completely different to everything I had known before and had drawn me to her like a moth to the flame.

Loud, urgent footsteps interrupted my revelation. They were running towards us, their sound echoing in the empty office outside. Even before she burst through the door I knew who it was from their uneven rhythm. My head was half turned towards the closed office door when I saw Diana dive for the draw in her desk. The door crashed open and a breathless Morgan stumbled into the room, the pistol I had given her held ready in her hand.

"47." She puffed as she staggered towards me, her long brown hair coming lose from her ponytail, obscuring her face. Time seemed to slow as I looked into her wide brown eyes, every sense in my body was heightened. I could see the faint flecks of gold in their depths, the bronze highlights of her hair as the sun hit it and the pale pink colour of her lips as they parted in a silent shout of warning. I saw the blur of movement as Diana bent to pick up the gun in her desk, bringing it up to aim not at me but at Morgan's head.

I moved as if in a dream. My body acting out of instinct not listening to the swirling chaos in my mind. I took a measured step in front of my handler and in the same second reached into my jacket and pulled out my ICA issue silenced pistol. Diana's green eyes widened, her face morphing into a rare expression of shock as I narrowed my eyes and squeezed the trigger.

Her head jerked back. The shock frozen on her face forever. A neat red hole now adorning her forehead. For what felt like a minute she remained suspended upright like a puppet waiting for orders. Then her strings were cut and she crumpled into messy heap on the floor. The pistol bouncing out of her limp hand and coming to a rest at my feet.

We didn't move. Both of us looking at the body in front of us. Out of all the deaths I had caused this one felt the most disjointed, the most unexpected. I had never intended to end it this way but my heart had made a choice over my head and I had acted on it. It was a new and unnerving experience.

Eventually I turned to look at the woman stood next to me. She was still staring at Diana, panting heavily, her mouth hanging open in a combination of shock and exhaustion. Achingly slowly she brought her eyes up to meet me. A beat past between us then she spoke in a breathy whisper.

"You killed her."

"She was going to kill you." I said, my voice wobbling slightly on the word 'kill'. Morgan blinked at me, then closed her eyes. I could see now she was shaking.

"She might not have." She retorted. Frowning I replied.

"No. She would have." Her eyes opened and I saw they were wet with tears. Why was she crying? Was she mourning Diana? "Is everyone safe?" I asked.

She gave a small nod, biting her bottom lip to stop it trembling. "Yes. They're all out. Seren saved us." I felt my eyebrows raise at this. It would appear she had inherited her mother's knack for not staying put.

"Good." I said simply. Turning to go I felt her warm hand grip my wrist.

"Are you alright?" She asked, the tears beginning to spill over. I looked at her in confusion.

"What's done is done. Seren is safe now." A tear rolled down her cheek and she wiped it away with her damaged hand.

"Thank you. For everything." I turned back to face her and gently caught another falling tear. She took a sharp breath as my finger brushed her cheek.

"Anything for you." I murmured, feeling my chest expand as I uttered the heartfelt sentiment. Her eyes shone as she looked up at me. She chewed on her lip some more, as if trying to hold back words instead of tears now. Then she let go of my wrist and rested both her hands on my shoulders. I stayed as still as stone as she bounced up on the balls of her feet and rested her cheek against mine, her breath tickling my ear as she whispered into it.

"I love you."

My chest felt like it would explode. Those three words making me feel heavy and light at the same time. She moved away from me, letting her hands fall to her sides. I looked at her blotchy, tear stained cheeks and the fevered, excited look in her eyes and felt myself smiling at her. Truly smiling. A wide honest grin. The way she looked at me it was as if I had said those words back, and in some ways I guess I had. My mask had dropped away and I was wearing my heart on my sleeve just like her.

After another few minutes Morgan cleared her throat and looked away, although her eyes were still shining with a mixture of tears and adrenaline.

"So I guess the ICA is gone then. What do we do now?" I let my smile drop and carefully holstered my pistol. Turning towards the door to the office I held out my hand to her. She looked at it with surprise then gently took it. I closed my fingers around her slim hand and pulled her after me as I walked out.

"We can try and live a normal life?" I said in low voice as we passed the empty office where Morgan had trained to become my handler.

"That sounds…good." She replied, her voice soft with relief and contentment. We descended the glass stairs together, hand in hand. Then walked out of the deserted foyer and away from the ICA, away from Cicada, and towards the rendezvous point; towards Charlie, Victoria…and our daughter.


	32. Epilogue

Epilogue

I ran down the bumpy the street towards the person I could see in the distance. The other children were far behind me, too slow to keep up, but I was impatient and I liked to run. The person slowed as they saw me getting closer, putting their hands on their hips and coming to a stop before I launched myself at them. Burying my face into their body.

"Oof. Careful cariad, what have I told you about running that fast in front of the other children?" I took my head out of my Ma's stomach to look up at her annoyed face.

"Sorry. I just wanted to see you." I mumbled, worried she would stop me from going out to play with them later. I had promised Maria I would show her how to do a handstand, I couldn't break my promise now. She stared at me for a moment then rolled her eyes. I grinned up at her as she took my arms from around her waist and held my hand.

"That's ok. Just think about what you're doing before you do it." We began to walk back the way she had come. Up the hill and away from the village, and the school. I looked over my shoulder at my school friends as they watched us walk away, their own Mas and Dads greeting them and hugging them. I saw one small girl with an intricate plait and waved enthusiastically. She waved back smiling. It was nice to have friends.

"So what did you learn today?" Ma asked as we continued up the hill.

"We did multiplication and fractions. And we learnt about the history of the island."

"Did you now?" I could hear the smile in Ma's voice, she squeezed my hand encouraging me to keep talking.

"Yes. Did you know the Greeks lived here before the Romans?" She shook her head.

"No I did not. Anything else?" I bounced on my feet, excited that I knew something Ma didn't. That didn't happened very often.

"And then these people called the Norman's invaded Italy and created the Kingdom of Sicily."

"Really? You seem to know an awful lot about this place." She looked down at me, her eyes twinkling. We were nearly at the top of the hill and I could see the whole village from here. I stopped for a second looking at the shiny blue of the sea. I had been so excited to see it for the first time. On the farm I had only ever seen green, lots and lots of green. Here it was hardly ever green. It was just yellow and blue. I liked the blue the best, it made me feel calm.

"Come on you, stop daydreaming. You want to have tea don't you?" Ma tugged my hand and I followed her as we rounded the side of the hill and our house came into view. Well, actually it was Dad's house but we stayed here now.

"Ma, can I go out with Maria later?" I asked as we came off the rocky street and onto the smooth white stone of our drive.

"Depends." She said and I looked up at her, disappointment clear on my face.

"On what?" I asked. She looked straight ahead so I couldn't see her expression, but I saw her mouth twitch at the corner.

"On what your father says." I felt like a firework had gone off inside me. I began bouncing around on the end of her arm and I could feel her shaking as she tried to keep from laughing.

"He's back! When? Now?" Ma gripped me with her other hand to stop me from moving. I stilled, even though I knew it would take more than that to stop me, but Dad and Ma were teaching me not to use all my strength. It turned out I had a lot of it.

"He will be later." Her expression darkened for a moment before the shadow passed and she smiled warmly at me. Ma always looked like that when she didn't want to tell me something. "Seren, be gentle when he gets back. He's been working and might not be in the mood to play with you straight way ok?" I nodded. I didn't need telling twice.

When he came back from the long trips he took he always looked like the scary man that had first tried to take me away on the farm. It would take a few hours for him to start being Dad again, but I was patient, I could wait for him. I wasn't sure how long it had been since Ma had taken me away from the farm and we had gone on our adventure but it felt like years. I liked having a Ma and Dad, it made me feel normal. Like the other children in my class. And as Dad liked to tell me, normal was something that was precious.

Ma opened the door and I let go of her hand, dashing through the living room, into the kitchen and out onto the balcony. It was my favourite spot. Ma sometimes had to carry me in in the evening because I liked to sit out there so much. "No climbing on the railing and tea will be ready in twenty minutes." Ma called after me. I sat down with my face pressed against the glass railing.

I had climbed on it a few times and once I had fallen when Dad creeped up on me and scared me. I had broken a bone, it had hurt a lot, and Ma had screamed. They had tied it up and told me to stay still, which I hated, but it had only been a day. Then it was better. Ma had freaked out at that, I wasn't sure why. Apparently broken bones should take longer than that to heal, but I was happy it hadn't taken long. But I had still promised not to climb on the railing again.

I looked at the vast blue sea and listened to the cicadas in the trees nearby. Ma didn't like the sound of them, she would always keep the windows and doors closed in the day to block them out, but I quite liked their loud chattering sound. Once I had found one and taken it show my parents, Dad had looked at it and told me to put it back. He said my Ma wouldn't like seeing it so I guess she must really be afraid of them.

The glittering water held my attention as I sat there with my forehead pressed against the cool glass. The wind blowing against my face and the cicadas buzzing in the background. I felt happy sat here even though it was so far away from the farm and Uncle Rudy, and Gelert, and Tobias. I did miss them. But then I remembered I had other friends now, I had Maria and Felipe and I had Uncle Charlie and Victoria, and Ma and Dad. I had a lot now.

I hadn't realised I had fallen asleep until I heard sharp footsteps on the wood behind me. It didn't sound like Ma. In an instant I was wide awake, I whirled around and leapt to my feet as fast as I could. I stared at the white shirt and red tie of the man in front of me and tilted my head back to see his face. Blue eyes like mine looked back at me, and I felt my face split into an ear to ear grin.

"Hello little one." He said. And with a high pealing laugh I forgot my promise and flung myself at him, hugging him tightly. A large, gentle hand patted my back awkwardly and I heard his rumbling voice through my cheek. "I missed you too cariad."

The End

* * *

 **A/N: Hello to all my readers,**

 **This has been a massive journey for me. I began this trilogy over a year ago; it started out a small, fun idea and evolved into this epic three part story. There have been some high and low points, and with writing it is to be expected, but I have loved hearing your comments, they forced me to keep going. To all my readers who have been there since the start, to the readers who have just joined and to those reading this in the future I want to say a humongous thank you. This story was as much yours as it was mine and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did dreaming it up and bringing it to life.**

 **Now don't get too emotional ;) this is not the end. I used this story to get back into writing and learn the craft again. I believe I have achieved this so it is on to the next thing. For a start Morgan and 47 will return, I am intending to post a series of one shots on their life after Exile. There will be no over arching storyline, just a few windows into their life after the ICA and their continuing relationship. It will be rated Mature as there will be some more 'intimate' moments shall we say, for the people who have been asking for that. Not sure when that will go up but it will start soon as I have already written a few.**

 **The next thing is I am writing another Fanfic on another game, this time Detroit: Become Human. I have started this so it will go up hopefully in the next few weeks, so if you're a fan of that game or are just curious hop over to that section to look for it.**

 **Finally, and this is the big one, I am going to start writing an original story on Wattpad. Now the reason for this is that I fully intend to write and hopefully publish a novel in my lifetime so this is the beginnings of that. I know Wattpad can be controversial but I feel it is the best way for me to have a go at an original idea as I will get a wider variety of Beta readers and real time feedback on my chapters. If you fancy joining me on that particular adventure I have posted my Wattpad profile link below.**

 **Phew, that was a lot. So I hope you're happy with the amount of stuff still going on. As I said this trilogy has been the start of something big in my life and I was overjoyed you could be a part of it.**

 **Hope to see you all again soon and until next time, your friendly neighbourhood fish, Monty. :)**

 **Wattpad profile:** **user/MEFielding**


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